


Visions of the Past

by DefyingPopularity



Category: Phantom of the Opera - Lloyd Webber
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-03
Updated: 2013-08-03
Packaged: 2017-12-22 06:29:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 27
Words: 60,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/910001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DefyingPopularity/pseuds/DefyingPopularity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sophia Day is a young, talented high school senior just coming into her own. While on a class trip to Paris, she has a near brush with death after saving her music teacher when the chandelier in the theater of the Opera Populaire comes crashing down. After the chandelier comes crashing down, she begins to have dreams of a past that is not known to her, but soon discovers that she is somehow connected to Christine Daae. Through struggles with emotions and personal struggles that she hides from the world, she finds solace in theater and comfort in her music teacher. She soon finds that it's better to fight and lose than to not fight at all. A modern retelling of POTO (ALW/2004 Film) with dream sequences.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Tour

**Author's Note:**

> This story was started on June 20, 2007 and was finished on March 24, 2012. Please be aware that some of the chapters are not as well written as others; I was young and coming into my own as a writer. I hope you enjoy reading this story as much as my FF.net readers have. ~DP

"Everyone, keep up please," the tour guide said as he led us through the Parisian Opera House, which was once known as the Opera Populaire. I looked among the grand staircase and the golden statues that seemed all too familiar to me as the rest of my class walked with the guide. "We'll be going into the room where we have recovered articles from the Opera House after the fire and before it was renovated."

"Come on, Sophia," Drake said, taking me by my hand so I could be with the rest of the class. Drake was my boyfriend. Eighteen, blonde hair, blue eyes, tall and handsome. A typical American boy. Once we caught up, I received a glare from Monsieur Destler, our music teacher. He was twenty-nine with black hair, blue eyes, tall...taller than Drake, dark and handsome, but his face was scarred from a birth defect. In our music class, he would always asked to be called 'Monsieur Destler' or just 'Monsieur' because he came from France. No sane woman would look at him twice after they saw him once, except me. I was his favorite among the class. I briefly glanced at myself in the mirror, observing my long, brown curls and my brown eyes, then felt myself being dragged into the other room by Drake.

"Please," the guide said, "just look at the items. Don't touch them."

I walked over to an object, looking at it closely. This too, looked familiar. It was a monkey, sitting on a wooden box, playing the cymbals. "Excuse me, sir," I spoke up, looking at the guide, pointing to the object. "What's this?"

Monsieur Destler smiled at me as I asked the question. The tour guide came over, smiling also. "This, mademoiselle," he said, picking up the object, holding it up so the class could see, "is one of the Opera House's most prized possessions. This is a papier - mache musical box that was found in the vaults of the theater back in 1907."

"Does it still work," Monsieur Destler asked, coming to the front of the group, his voice filled with a rich French accent and it was amazing, as was his singing voice.

"I'm sorry, monsieur, but I'm afraid that -"

Suddenly, a small little chiming melody began to play and the monkey began to put the cymbals together. It was odd, but it was as if I had heard it somewhere before. It was like a lullaby and the words rang through my head.

_Masquerade..._

_Paper faces on parade..._

"I'll be," the guide whispered as the class began to murmur.

"Amazing," Drake said softly as the guide placed the music box back where it was so the rest of the class could observe it. I tore myself away from Drake's side, wandering away from the group and going into the empty theater.

_Lot 666...a chandelier in pieces..._

The voice echoed through the empty theater. I was freaking myself out. Why did it feel like I had been here before? I heard something creak above me. I looked up and saw that the chandelier was shaking.

"Sophia, are you in here," Monsieur Destler's familiar voice rang out as he entered the theater. I looked toward him and smiled.

"Yeah, I'm here," I replied.

He began to walk towards me. Suddenly, the chain supporting the chandelier snapped and it came crashing down. I looked at Monsieur Destler. He was going to be killed if I didn't do something and fast. I ran to him, shoving him out of harm's way. I felt the weight of the chandelier crash onto my small body as I fell to the ground. Soon, I heard the screams of my classmates.

"Sophia!"

"Don't you dare touch her!"

The second voice was Drake. The first voice was Monsieur Destler. I felt his warm hands touch my face as the tour guide came over.

"I've called for help. They're on their way."

"Sophia...Sophia, stay with me..." I heard Monsieur Destler say. His voice faded and everything went black.


	2. The Final Lesson

"Christine," a woman's voice said softly as I felt myself waking up as she gently shook me. "Christine, wake up."

"Mmm...yes," I mumbled, keeping my eyes closed.

"It's time for your lesson."

"But...it's late," I said, opening my eyes and sitting up in my bed. I looked around the room. Where was I? This wasn't my room back home, nor was it my hotel room. And why was I being called Christine? My name was Sophia. Didn't this woman know that?

"I know, Christine, but you know that your Angel only appears to you at night."

"Yes, of course," I said, nodding. I looked at the woman, realizing who it was. It was Madame Giry. I had seen her picture in the Opera House. She was the ballet mistress there back in the late 1800s. So...why was she here now?

"Hurry and put your robe on. He'll be here any minute."

I nodded, hurriedly putting the robe on and tying it. "Thank you, Madame."

"You're welcome, Christine. Have a good lesson," she said, and with that, left, shutting the door behind her.

I looked around the room, taking in the scent of it and the setting. This, of all of the things that I had seen earlier, seemed the most familar of all. I looked in the mirror. I saw myself. My curly brown locks, my fair skin and my brown eyes. So why I was I being called Christine? Was this all a dream? I hoped it all was...and yet, it all seemed real.

"Christine...Christine..." a voice, a strange sweet sound that sounded all too familiar sang throughout the room. No...it can't be...it couldn't be Monsieur Destler. Why would I be dreaming of him? But his voice...his voice...

"My Angel, I am here," I replied, looking towards the mirror. It was as if I knew where he would be. Just as I did, a dark figure appeared on the other side of the mirror, wearing all black and a white mask on the right side of his face, ironically the same side that Monsieur Destler's face was scarred. The mirror slowly slid open and the figure stepped out, smiling at me as he did so.

"A short lesson today, my dear student."

"Yes, of course, My Angel."

"I'm sorry that Antoinette had to wake you. I know that you've had a trying day with La Carlotta."

"How do you know -"

"I'm your Angel, Christine," he said, taking my hand, kissing it gently. "I know everything. I watch over you."

I smiled, giggling softly. I knew what he was talking about. I could see a memory flashing through my head. I saw myself dancing by the diva, La Carlotta, during a rehearsal of an opera called 'Hannibal.' I could see her shoving me out of the way so she could sing and I saw myself being caught by Madame Giry.

"Now, I just want you to run through the aria from Act Three of 'Hannibal' until I stop you," he said, sitting down on my bed.

"Without a piano?"

"Yes, without a piano, Christine. You'll do fine. Now, begin."

I nodded, taking a breath.

_Think of me_

_Think of me fondly when we've said goodbye_

_Remember me once in a while_

_Please promise me you'll try_

_When you find that once again you long_

_To take your heart back and be free_

_If you ever find a moment_

_Spare a thought for me_

He put his hand up and I stopped, looking at him, worried. He smiled, standing up and walked towards me.

"You are ready, Christine," he said, lightly brushing my cheek with his fingers. "Tomorrow night, the world will fall in love with you. Tomorrow night, you...will be the diva."

"How? Carlotta never misses a show. There is no hope for me."

"There will always be hope for you as long as I'm there," he said, kissing my forehead lightly. "Now, get some sleep and I shall see you tomorrow evening."

I nodded, going back over to my bed and laying down as he left my room through the mirror, slowly sliding it closed behind him. As I fell asleep, I began to wonder...what did all of this have to do with me?


	3. Sophia and the Teacher

The next thing that I heard was the sound of machines beeping. I slowly opened my eyes and looked around. I was in a hospital room and Monsieur Destler sitting by my bed in a chair, sleeping. I smiled softly, looking at him. I tried to sit up, but winced, whimpering some as I moved. Monsieur Destler's eyes shot open as he looked at me.

"Sophia. Oh, thank God, you're okay," he said, getting up and coming over to me, sitting on the edge of my bed.

"Major...pain..." I whispered, trying to move again.

"Don't try to move. The doctor said that you may have a couple cracked ribs. You're lucky to be alive."

I nodded. "I know. I didn't know what else to do."

"You shouldn't have saved...a monster like me."

"I don't think that you're a monster, Monsieur Destler."

He looked at me with a gentle look on his face, stroking my cheek softly. The door flew open and there was Drake, coming in.

"Soph. Sophie, you're okay," he said, coming to my side, taking my hand.

I nodded slightly, entwining our fingers, smiling softly at him. Monsieur Destler got up, running a hand through his hair.

"I better go talk to the doctors," he said softly, leaving the room. As the door shut, Drake kissed me softly, a worried look on his face.

"Don't worry, Drake. I'm okay."

"It's not you I'm worried about," he mumbled, sitting on the edge of my bed.

"What?"

"I don't like you spending so much time with Monsieur Destler. Do you have any idea how lonely that guy must get?"

"Drake, come on. Monsieur Destler is a teacher. What could he want with me?"

"Anything that you have to offer."

"Drake."

"I'm serious, Sophie. I don't like you spending so much time with him."

"You're paranoid. And jealous. You know how important music is to me."

"It's not that. It's..."

"What is it?"

He reached into his back pocket, pulling out his program from the Opera House, flipping through it, folding a page back. "I know it seems weird, but this girl looks like you," he said, showing me a picture of the girl. I looked at it, observed it, then gasped quietly.

"Christine Daae," I said softly, taking the program from him.

"Yeah, she was this opera singer who was taught by this count who lived under the opera house. No one knew that he was a count though except the ballet mistress --"

"Madame Antoinette Giry."

"Yeah...how do you know all this?"

"I don't," I replied. "Keep talking."

"Anyway...this count or whatever was in love with Christine, but she was engaged to this vitcome who was her childhood sweetheart. Anyway, during an opera that she was singing in, he made the chandelier crash. A few months later during another opera, he kidnapped her, but...he let her go."

"Did you find out what happened to him?"

"I've heard a couple different things. The first thing I heard was that he just disappeared and married, carried on with his life until he died. The next thing I heard was that he killed himself. The last thing was that he died in the fire."

"Did you get a name?"

"Sophie, this guy used several different names. The Opera Ghost, O.G., The Phantom of the Opera, and his own special name, as if the other names weren't special enough already, for when he was teaching Christine."

"Angel."

He nodded. "Angel of Music."

I put a hand over my mouth, soaking all of this in. I couldn't believe it. I had a past life. I was Christine Daae. It was hard to believe at first, but then I realized it. Maybe the dreams were memories from Christine's life. I did look just like her and Monsieur Destler did look like her Angel, aside from the white mask. Monsieur Destler was never shy about his scarred face, but sometimes I did wonder why he didn't wear a mask.

"What...what about a real name?"

"No, Sophia. I'm not going to tell you that."

"Drake, come on. You've told me everything else. What was the Phantom's real name?"

"No, Sophia," he said, standing up. "I'm not going to tell you."

"Drake," I said, taking the bed controller and adjusting my bed so I could sit up, since I couldn't move very well. "You promised me that you wouldn't keep secrets from me. Tell me."

He sighed, taking a scrap piece of paper out, writing something on it and folding it up, placing it in my lap. After he did so, he left, quitely shutting the door behind him. I looked at the paper, then the door, then back at the paper. I picked it up, looking at it, slowly unfolding it. I read the name, tears coming to my eyes.

Destler.

There was a soft knock at the door. I wiped my tears and threw the paper in the trash bin, pulling my hair back into a ponytail as I said softly, "Come in."

The door slowly opened and Monsieur Destler reappeared, carrying a plate of fruit for me to eat. "I thought that you might be hungry."

I smiled softly at the gesture as he placed the plate on my tray, sitting back down in his chair as I readjusted my bed again. "Thank you, Monsieur Destler," I said, taking a grape and eating it. As I picked up a slice of an apple, I couldn't help but think of his name and the dream that I had. I sighed, putting the apple slice back onto the plate, laying back.

"Everything okay, Sophia?"

I shook my head. "No, Monsieur. Everything isn't all right."

"What's wrong?"

"Drake was here."

"Yes...I saw."

"Well...I know this may sound awkward, but he doesn't like me spending so much time with you."

"Why does he say that?"

"Because of the story of Christine Daae and the Phantom of the Opera."

He looked at me, a gentle look on his face, sighing softly. "He found the name 'Destler,' didn't he?"

I sighed and nodded, looking at him for an explaination.

"I don't know much about my family history, Sophia," he said, getting up from the chair and pacing about the room. "When I was born with this scarred face, my mother gave me away, put me in a foster home. I never met her. I never knew my father. I know that when people looked at me in Paris, before I came to America, I know that they saw a monster. It was only through music that I found my human soul, not this monster that you see before you. When I found out that I could've possibly been related to the Phantom of the Opera, whoever he was, I left Paris and came to America. In America, people would never ask and try not to stare. The first time I walked into the classroom of all of these little freshmen, I knew that teaching probably wasn't my thing, but I had to make money somehow. Then...I saw you."

"Me? What did I have to do with it?

He smiled softly, sitting on the edge of my bed. "You looked at me and couldn't keep your eyes away. When I asked who could sing, you stood up by yourself."

"You asked me who I was and --"

"And you replied --"

"I'm only Sophia, sir, but I probably have the best voice in the room."

He smiled, brushing some hair from my eyes. "And you did have the best voice in the room," he said, placing his hand on my cheek.

I smiled, savoring his touch, closing my eyes. I could see the Phantom of the Opera touching my cheek, ever so gently, just as Monsieur Destler was doing now.

"Fairy tales and ghost stories are not what you need now, Sophia," he said softly, stroking my cheek with his thumb. "What you need now is rest. Go back to sleep."

I nodded softly, breathing deeply. As I drifted off, I could've swore I heard him say, "My Angel of Music."


	4. Sophia Meets Raoul and the Phantom

When I awoke, I was Christine again and I was in her room again, only this time I was wearing a flowing white gown and there were beautiful bouquets of flowers everywhere. What did this mean? There were men pounding at the door, asking to see me so they could give me flowers. Madame Giry managed to get through, shouting at the men to go away as she shut the door. She turned to me and smiled, breathing heavily.

"You did very well, Christine," she said, handing me a red rose with a black ribbon tied around it. "Your Angel is pleased with you."

I smiled, playing with the ribbon. "I feel bad for La Carlotta though, Madame."

"She needed to go, Christine. You know that."

"Yes...I know."

She sighed softly, placing a hand on my arm. "He'll be here soon, probably after everyone leaves. Rumor has it that the Vicomte is wanting to speak with you."

"The Vicomte? Why?"

"I don't know, but I'd advise you to be careful."

"I will, Madame. Thank you."

"You're welcome, Christine. Have a good night," she said and with that, left, shutting the door behind her. I sat down at my vanity, holding the rose as I silently prayed that the Phantom of the Opera wouldn't hurt anymore people. Carlotta was lucky that she didn't get killed, but there had been other accidents before. I paid no attention as the door opened quietly and a man walked in, carrying a bouquet of flowers until he said,

"Little Lotte, let her mind wander. Little Lotte thought, 'Am I fonder of goblins or of shoes?'"

I gasped quietly as I turned to him, smiling brightly as I saw him. Blond hair, blue eyes, tall and handsome. He looked exactly like Drake, but it wasn't Drake. It was Raoul. "Raoul," I said, watching him.

"'Or of riddles or of frocks,'" he said, with a small chuckle.

"Those picnics in the attic..."

"'Or of chocolates...'"

I smiled. "Father playing the violin..."

"As we read to each other," he said, kneeling before me, "dark stories of the North."

"No. 'What I love best,' Lotte said, 'is when I'm asleep in my bed and the Angel of Music sings songs in my head.'"

He nodded, wrapping his arms around me. "You sang like an angel tonight."

I smiled, hugging him back. It felt so good to be in his arms again. "Father said," I said as he pulled away, "'When I am in heaven, child, I will send the Angel of Music to you.' Father is dead, Raoul...and I have been visited by the Angel of Music."

"And there is no doubt of it, Christine. And now, we go to supper," he said, standing up and going towards the door.

"No, Raoul. The Angel is very strict."

"Then I shall not keep you out late," he said with a chuckle, opening the door.

"Raoul, no!"

"You must change! I'll order my carriage. Two minutes, Little Lotte."

"No. Raoul, wait!"

But it was too late. He had shut the door and he was gone. I sighed, deciding to changed since I was finally left alone. The only thing that I couldn't figure out was what was going to happen between me and the Angel. I decided not to ponder it as I put my robe on, but as I tied it, the candles went out in my room. I froze, breathing slowly, then ran to my door, trying to open it, but it was locked. Then, a booming voice rang through my room, singing,

_Insolent boy_

_This slave of fashion_

_Basking in your glory_

_Ignorant fool_

_This brave young suitor_

_Sharing in my triumph_

I slowly turned, looking around as I sang back,

_Angel, I hear you_

_Speak, I listen_

_Stay by my side_

_Guide me_

_Angel, my soul was weak_

_Forgive me_

_Enter at last_

_Master_

The voice became more gentle, but was still booming as he sang,

_Flattering Child, you shall know me_

_See why in shadow I hide_

_Look at your face in the mirror_

_I am there inside!_

Just as he sang this, he appeared on the other side of the mirror, just as he did every other night before, but this night was different. Tonight, I had to thank him for my voice. I walked towards the mirror, almost as if I was in a trance as he softly sang,

_I am your Angel of Music_

_Come to me Angel of Music_

There was a rattling of the doorknob. I knew it was Raoul when I heard him say, "Who is that voice? Who is that in there!?" But again, my Angel sang again as he opened the mirror and held out his hand to me,

_I am your Angel of Music_

_Come to me Angel of Music_

I looked back for a moment as I stepped into the mirror, hesitantly taking his hand as the mirror closed and he led me through the passageway and down to the catacombs.

"Where are you taking me, Angel?"

"I'm taking you to my home, Christine," he replied, helping me into a boat.

"For how long," I asked, sitting down carefully as he got in.

He smiled down at me and said, "For as long as you want."

The boat began to move across the lake as I sat there, looking around in amazement. The Angel had the same charming smile as Monsieur Destler did. Once we got across, he got out first, then helped me out.

"Christine, you were wonderful tonight," he said, leading me about his home.

"Thank you, my Angel," I replied, entwining our fingers. "If it wasn't for you, I wouldn't have found my voice."

"You're welcome. But I wonder...who was the man that you were speaking with earlier?"

"That was Raoul de Changy, the Vicomte. He was just an old friend of mine that I hadn't seen in a while."

"I don't like him, Christine. I want you to try and stay away from him."

"I'll try."

"Good girl. Now I have a gift for you. I hope that you can accept it," he said, leading me over to a covered up mirror.

"You didn't have to get me anything."

He just smiled, taking the cover off. I gasped. It was a manican that looked exactly like me, with a wedding dress on. Overwhelmed, I fainted and he caught me. I felt myself being carried across the lair and laid onto a bed. Like a lullabye, I heard him sing softly,

_You alone can make my song take flight_

_Help me make the music of the night..._

The familiar chiming of the music box awoke me as I looked around. I was still in his home. I opened the canopy and looked around. I got up and walked towards the main part of the lair, seeing him sitting at his organ, composing. The mask intrigued me. Not only because of what he was hiding, but it was the fact it may have been Monsieur Destler. I slowly walked over to him, standing beside him. I placed my hand on his bare cheek.

"Mmm...Christine...your touch," he said softly, putting his pen down and tilting his head back.

I smiled softly, surprised that I had that effect on him. I placed my other hand on the mask, running my fingers along the edge of it slowly, placing my fingernails underneath it and peeling it off. I gasped as I looked down at the face before me. Scars. It was Monsieur Destler. He yelled, covering his face with his hand, pushing me down to the cold floor.

"Damn it! How could you, Christine!?"

"I'm sorry! I didn't know!"

He stood with his back to me, breathing heavily. I still held the mask, trying not to cry. He turned to me, keeping his face covered with his hand, kneeling before me. I crouched away from him, holding the mask close to me.

"Christine, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to push you that hard," he said, placing his free hand on my ankle. "May I please have the mask back?"

I nodded, slowly handing it back to him. He put the mask back on and turned back to me. He leaned forward, almost as if he were going to kiss me. He stopped, then stood up, taking me by the hand and helping me up.

"I must return you. The fools that run my theater will be missing you."

Before I could reply, he walked me back to the boat and sat me down, getting in beside me, rowing the boat back to the other side.

"Your theater? So...you're the Phantom of the Opera?"

He nodded. "I have been watching over you ever since the day that you arrived here with Antoinette. I fell in love with you when I heard you sing for the first time, but I knew that if I was going to get Carlotta out of here, I had to make you better. You became the greatest student that I could ask for. You did everything I said and you never complained, even when our lessons were so late at night."

I smiled, looking at him. "I owe everything to you, my Angel."

"You don't have to call me that anymore," he said, stopping the boat and helping me out. "From what you have seen tonight, I am definitely not an angel."

"You will always be my angel," I said, stepping in front of him, looking into his eyes.

He smiled down at me, running a hand through my hair. "Come. You'll have a long day tomorrow."

"What about you? What are you going to do?"

"Go back and write some notes."

I looked towards the stairs, then back at him. "Do I have to go up by myself?"

"No. What's wrong? Are you afraid of something?"

"It's...more like a someone."

"Me," he said softly, turning his face away from me.

"No," I said, turning his face back to mine, looking deep into his eyes, our faces close.

"Then who? You know that I will protect you, Christine."

"Buquet."

"The stagehand," he asked, taking my hand, leading me up the stairs.

"Yes. He's been peeking on the girls while they were dressing for rehearsal. I caught him yesterday and he said that if I told anyone, he would come to my room at night and...and..."

I broke off, turning away from him as we reached the mirror. He slid the mirror open, then turned my body back to his, our faces close again.

"I swear to you, Christine," he said, leading me into my room. "Buquet will never lay a hand on you. I'll always be there to protect you."

"Do you promise," I asked softly, resting my head on his shoulder.

"I promise," he said, kissing the top of my head.

I smiled, pulling away and kissing his cheek lightly. "I know. I need sleep."

He smiled softly. "You do. I'll leave you alone," he said, kissing my forehead, walking towards the mirror. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight," I said, going to my bed and laying down at the mirror slid closed, falling asleep immediately.


	5. Sophia and Buquet

The next time I woke up, I was still in the hospital, but Monsieur Destler was nowhere in sight. Thinking at he was in the bathroom, I called out his name,

"Monsieur Destler?"

The bathroom door swung open, but it wasn't Monsieur Destler who emerged. It was Mr. Buquet, the school principal.

Buquet was the most evil principal that ever set foot into our school. He came to our school the year before Monsieur Destler did. He was about 35 and he had short dark brown hair, brown eyes, with a perfectly chisled face. He came with us on the school trip to make sure that we wouldn't get out of hand, although Monsieur Destler could've handled us alone. We were only seniors. How bad could we possibly be?

"Mr. Buquet. What are you doing here?"

"Monsieur Destler called me after the accident. I got here as fast as I could."

"Then...where is Monsieur Destler?"

"Back at the hotel with the rest of the students."

"And Drake?"

"Why all of the questions, Sophia," he asked, lifting an eyebrow.

"No reason," I lied shakily. "They were here when I fell asleep, that's all."

There was a reason. Buquet was a creep; always has been and always will be. There were rumors floating around that he had hidden cameras in the girls locker room and he watching all of the girls change and shower. Whether it was true or not, I didn't know, but I knew that I didn't like being alone with him.

"They are all back at the hotel, resting," he said, slipping his hand underneath the covers of my bed, close to my leg.

I swallowed hard, feeling uncomfortable. I tried to move, but I couldn't without feeling any pain. Without warning, I felt something. It was his hand and it was creeping up my leg.

"What...what are you doing?"

"Hush, Sophia," he whispered, sitting down on the edge of my bed, his hand creeping up past my knee and onto my thigh.

"Mr. Buquet...what are you doing? Stop..."

"No one will know," he said, looking into my eyes, feeling my gown ride up to my stomach. "That is...if you don't tell anyone."

"What if I do," I said harshly, glaring at him.

He looked at me coldly, then I felt something being shoved inside of me: his fingers.

I whimpered, my hands gripping the mattress as I squeezed my eyes shut, his fingers moving roughly in and out.

"You wouldn't want your precious music teacher to lose his job, would you?"

"You...you can't do that," I said, tears steaming down my face as I felt another finger slip into my secrets.

"But I can, Sophia. All I have to say is that I walked in on you two, in this very hospital room and you two were doing more than what I'm doing to you now. He would lose his job and you would lose that scholarship you have to Juliard."

"No," I cried, shaking my head, laying back onto the bed as he continued.

"So we have a deal? You let me do this from time to time and Destler keeps his job?"

"You're a monster..."

"No..." he said, withdrawing his fingers, wiping them clean on the bed sheet, standing up. "Your music teacher is the monster. So...what will it be, Sophia? Me...or the monster? You choose me...he keeps his job. You choose him...well...the scholarship will be gone and so will your teacher."

My silence was my answer, knowing that I was powerless to do anything about it. I fought back my tears as I turned my head away from him, a look of submission on my face.

"Good girl," he said, grinning evilly. Without another word, he left, as if nothing had happened at all.

I laid in bed, silent and disgusted. First the dreams, now this? What was to become of me?

The next morning, I was still awake, my face red and blotchy from crying all night. Neither Drake, Monsieur Destler or Buquet came back that night. All I wanted to do was go home, or just be held by someone who cared about me as much as Drake did. I began to think about Christine and the Phantom. He treated her so well. Would they end up together? What of Raoul? What would happen to him? Then another question came to mind. What did all of these dreams mean? Why was I having them? Should I tell people about them? The only people that I could really trust would be Monsieur Destler and Drake, but Monsieur Destler would probably think that I was in love with him if I told him, and Drake would think that I'm cheating on him if I told him instead. What of the situation with Buquet? There had to be a way that I could get out of it. If only I could bring the Phantom of the Opera back to protect me, just as he was doing for Christine. Maybe...maybe my Phantom was just right in front of me, and I just didn't want him to know.

Just then, the door opened and Drake walked in, smiling at me. I smiled back, sitting up some.

"Are you all right," he asked, sitting on the edge of my bed.

"Rough night," I replied, simply, kissing him sweetly. "How is everyone?"

"Worried about you. We heard that Buquet the Perv was here last night."

"Yeah, he was. The doctors wanted an adult to sit with me durning the night, just in case something were to happen."

"I don't think anymore bad things could happen to you now, Sophie. You survived a chandelier falling on you. I think you'll be okay now."

"Yeah...Drake, there's something I should tell you."

"What is it, Sophie?"

I took a breath, taking his hand and looking at him firmly. "I'm having dreams about Christine Daae. In the dreams, I'm her. You were in them. In the dreams, you're Raoul de Changy, a Vicomte, but there's someone else in the dreams that Christine seems to be torn between."

He looked at me, raising an eyebrow. "And...who is this other person, Sophia?"

I bit my lip slightly. "Uh...The Phantom of the Opera."

"Who is the Phantom in your dreams?"

"Monsieur Destler."

His mouth fell open slightly as he dropped my hand, looking down at the floor.

"It doesn't mean anything, Drake," I said, trying to take his hand again, but he pulled it away.

"I knew that there was something going on between you."

"What? Drake, what are you saying?"

"You like Monsieur Destler!"

"Drake, how can you say that? I love you, not him!"

For some reason, that statement tasted a lie, but I had no idea why.

"When you can prove that to me, come find me," he said, storming out the door.

"Drake, wait," I yelled, but it was no use.

He was gone.

I fell back onto the bed, sighing deeply.

In the story that Drake had told me the day before, Christine ends up with Raoul, so why was he being so damn pigheaded and jealous? If the dreams were playing out was going to happen in my life, then why did he run off like he did? Although...Monsieur Destler did always treat me kindly and always told me the truth when I asked him a serious question. Drake would blow it off and change the subject. Could Christine have made the wrong choice in the past? Maybe she was destined for the Phantom after all. Did it mean that I was too?


	6. The Next Morning

"Christine," Madame Giry's familiar voice said as she opened the curtains to my room. "I did not think you were going to come back. The Vicomte's been looking for you and the managers are going crazy, along with Carlotta and Piangi."

I opened my eyes, rubbing them as I sat up in my bed, yawning. "You try sleeping in the catacombs."

She coughed, dropping a hairbrush, but quickly picking it up, coming over and sitting behind me, beginning to brush my hair. "You went with him last night?"

"Yes. My Angel...my Phantom...and he didn't even tell me until I saw his face."

Madame Giry stared at me, astonished. "You removed his mask?"

"I was curious." I answered meekly, feeling her eyes burning a hole into the back of my head. I didn't dare turn around.

She was silent for a moment, but then her eyes softened, sighing. "I know. Just...don't tell anyone about him. If word got out that he caused all of those accidents..."

I turned to her as she stopped brushing my hair. "He caused the accidents?"

"He was only trying to protect us, Christine. You, myself and Meg."

I swallowed nervously, pulling my hair back with a blue ribbon. I saw Madame look over at my vanity, venturing over towards it and putting the brush down as she picked up a white envelope with a red skull's seal; my Angel's seal.

"It's from him," I said, standing up and going to find a clean dress to wear. "Open it, Madame. What does it say?"

She opened it, skimmed over it, then said, "It looks like it's for the managers. It's about you."

"Well, what does it say," I asked, pulling the dress on.

Madame Giry cleared her throat, then read, "'Gentlemen: I have now sent you several notes of the most amiable nature detailing how my theater is to be run. You have not followed my instruction, but I shall give you one last chance. Christine Daae has returned to you and I am anxious; her career should progress. In the new production of  _Il Muto_ , you will therefore cast Carlotta as the Pageboy and put Miss Daae in the role of Countess.'"

I squealed, jumping up and down as I tied the back of my dress.

"Wait, Christine. There's more. 'The role which Miss Daae plays calls for charm and appeal. The role of the Pageboy is silent which makes my casting, in a word, ideal. I shall watch the performance from my normal seat in Box Five, which will be kept empty for me. Should these commands be ignored, a disaster beyond your imagination will occur. I remain, gentlemen, your obedient servant, O.G.'" She slipped the note back in the envelope carefully. "I shall return, Christine. The managers and Vicomte need to see this. I will tell them that you do not want any visitors."

"Thank you, Madame. Thank you so much."

"I am not the one you should be thanking, Christine," she said with a small smile, leaving, shutting the door behind her.

I looked around my room, smiling brightly, then said, as if I were praying, "Thank you."

It had been a couple of hours and Madame Giry still hadn't come back. I stepped out of my room, closing the door behind me as I looked up and down the hall, not seeing anyone.

Then...an eerie voice...and it wasn't the Phantom.

"Christine."

I gasped, turning around, seeing Buquet. I started to run, but he was right behind me. I ran backstage and up to the planks, trying to hide. But where could I hide? He knew where to go to catch me. I began backing up on the plank, being careful of where I stepped, so I wouldn't fall. Until I felt myself stop, bumping into a body. Buquet's.

"Afternoon, madamoiselle," he growled into my ear, wrapping his arms tightly around my small body.

I began to kick as he picked me up, pulling me off the plank and pressing my body against the wall, his hands on my hips.

"Did you have a good night with your 'Angel,'" he asked, his hands roaming my body.

I looked at him, disgusted. "He's more of an angel than you'll ever be."

"If he's such an angel, then why isn't here now?"

"I haven't told anyone," I said, pushing him away. "So what do you want?"

He grinned, grabbing my wrist and pulling me to him. His eyes were cold, evil, and his breath reeked of alcohol. "Just to see you, my lovely girl. Although...I want to see more of you."

"Let me go, Buquet. I have a show to get ready for."

He raised an eyebrow, but let me go. "What show? You're only playing the Pageboy."

The color drained from my face as I stepped away from him, my mouth gaping open slightly.

"What?"

"Yes. Carlotta and Piangi threw a fit. You won't be in the spotlight tonight, Miss Daae."

I shook my head, running away from him again, and back into my room, slamming the door, sliding down to the floor against it. I closed my eyes, praying that this wasn't happening. Then I looked over towards my bed, seeing the costume for the Pageboy with a note. I got up and walked over to my bed, picking up the note, reading it silently.

I'm sorry, Christine.

Mme. Giry

I sighed deeply, touching the fabric of the costume lightly. I guess I was meant to only be a dancer, not a singer.

Then, a knock on my door. And Madame Giry's voice.

"Christine. It's time to get ready."


	7. Sophia Gets the Lead

"Sophie, it's time to get up," Monsieur Destler said, knocking on my door.

It had been a few days. I was back in my hotel room just in time for us to leave. I had spent a total of two nights in the room: the first night in Paris and the night before, which was when I came back from the hospital. I sat up in my bed, yawning, happy to be in something other than a hospital gown. I was in a pair of pajama pants with a tshirt. I got up and answered the door, smiling softly.

"You have half an hour to get ready. Our flight leaves at 10."

"Alright," I said softly, leaving the door open slightly as I went to get my things and something to wear.

"Hey...are you all right," he asked, coming and shutting the door.

"Yes, I'm okay, thanks," I replied, finding a pair of jeans and a tank top, folding the rest of my clothes quickly and placing them in my suitcase, zipping it up.

"I got an email from the vice principal this morning."

"Really? What did she say?"

"She got the books and scores for the Senior Class musical."

I sighed.

"It's 'Les Miserables,' isn't it," I asked, going into the bathroom, shutting the door and dressing quickly.

"No, Sophia," he said, sitting on my bed. "It's the one that you suggested."

I froze, zipping my jeans up and pulling my hair up into a ponytail, opening the door, smiling brightly.

"'Beauty and the Beast?'"

He smiled.

"Yep, and you, my dear," he said, handing me the Original Broadway Cast CD, "are going to be Belle."

"Are you serious," I gasped, taking the CD.

"When am I not serious," he asked, standing up.

I laughed happily, running to him and wrapping my arms around him, hugging him tightly. He wrapped his arms around me, smiling.

"Thank you so much, Monsieur Destler."

"It's going to take a lot of work," he said, pulling away, his hands running down my arms. I know that we only have a few months before the performance, but we can do this. Okay?"

"Absolutely," I said with a smile.

I sat on the plane with my laptop, talking to my mom, who was at work, telling her the good news. Monsieur Destler had told everyone about the musical and everyone was happy. They didn't want to strain their voices doing 'Les Miserables' anyway. Everyone figured out that I was Belle when they saw that I had the CD. Monsieur Destler had said before we left for Paris that he would give the CD to the one who would be Belle before we left. Some of the girls were jealous, saying that it was only because I saved his life that I got the part. When Mom signed off, I put the CD in my laptop and began to listen to it. Drake was sitting with a friend of his. He hadn't spoken to me since I told him about the dreams.

I sighed softly, closing my eyes.

Then someone poked me in the shoulder. I opened my eyes to see Buquet. He pointed towards the back, to the bathroom, then walked back there alone. I shook my head slightly, taking off my headphones and setting my laptop down in the empty seat beside, starting to head towards the back. Just as I got there, I felt someone grab my wrist. I turned around and saw Drake.

"Drake. What --"

"Shh..." he said, pulling me into the attendents area, closing the curtains.

"Look, I'm --"

"No. Let me start," he said, looking a me with a gentle look on his face.

"Alright. What is it?"

He took a breath, looking at me.

"Look, about the other day, I'm sorry. I overreacted. They're just dreams. They don't mean anything."

"Really? You're okay?"

"Yeah," he said, taking my hand, kissing me gently. "I'm okay."

I smiled, kissing him back.

"So," he said, starting to kiss my neck. "Tell me about Christine and this Vicomte."

I giggled softly, feeling his lips against my neck.

Before I could answer, the curtain flew open and Buquet was standing there, his hands on his hips. Drake and I both swallowed, looking at Buquet.

"Drake, back to your seat."

He nodded, leaving me alone with Buquet. I wanted to say, 'No, Drake. Stay here with me. Don't leave me alone with him.' But it was too late.

Buquet moved to me after he shut the curtain, pressing me against the counter. "You were supposed to meet me in the bathroom, not in here with your little boyfriend."

"Buquet, I'm --"

"It's Mr. Buquet to you, Sophia," he said, pressing his lips against mine roughly.

I pushed him away, wiping my mouth off with the back of my hand.

"What did I say would happen if you refused," he growled, kissing me roughly again.

This time, I just stood there as he kissed me, his hands resting on my back. Once he was done, he let me go.

"You go first. Just tell them I gave you a lecture."

I nodded, leaving the attendants area and going back to my seat, putting a hand to my forehead.

"Sophia," Monsieur Destler said, turning around to face me. "Is everything all right?"

I nodded.

"I'm just tired."

He nodded. "Go to sleep. We have a while before we get in."

"Alright," I said, reclining my seat, putting my headphones back on, listening to the CD as I fell asleep.


	8. A Ghost's Farewell

I sighed softly, sitting on the bed with Carlotta, just when the show was about ot begin.

"Don't be so down, my dear little toad," she said, sarcastically patting my back. "Not everyone was meant to be in the spotlight."

"Like you," I replied, glaring at her.

"I've worked harder and have more experience than you, little toad," she said, as the orchestra began to play the beginning of the opera.

"You just wait, Carlotta. You're going to get yours."

Above, unbeknowingst to me, my Angel was there, watching the opera, knowing that I wasn't the lead. Attached to his hip was a noose, which Buquet called his magical lasso. I had a feeling that something bad was about to happen. He walked around, opening a door which led to the theater. He was hidden by the chandiler, watching me.

Being a mute was easy. It was Carlotta that was the hard part and Buquet watching me from above. Madame Giry was backstage and the managers were in their box and Raoul was in Box Five, my Angel's Box. By Raoul's smile and the way he looked at me, he thought I was cute in the Pageboy's costume. I realized that I missed his smile and...I missed him. Yes, my Angel would always be there, but what if he found another girl to protect? I couldn't wait around for him forever.

Then...a booming voice...all too familiar.

"DID I NOT INSTRUCT THAT BOX 5 WAS TO BE KEPT EMPTY?!"

Everyone in the theater gasped and looked towards the ceiling and the whole opera stopped, looking up as well.

"He's here," Meg whispered to one of the extras. "The Phantom of the Opera."

"It's him," I whispered, closing my eyes.

"Your part is silent, little toad," Carlotta yelled, then laughed politely, going backstage.

"A toad, madame," he said, in his booming voice. "Perhaps it is you who are the toad."

Carlotta had the conductor begin the song again as I looked at Madame Giry, who shrugged her shoulders. Carlotta began to sing, looking out at the audience.

_Seriphino, away with this pretense_

_You cannot speak_

_But kiss me in my CROAAAAAAAAK_

Carlotta gasped, clapping a hand over her mouth. The patrons began to laugh as the Phantom laughed evilly.

"Try again, Miss Carlotta," the conductor whispered as the music started again.

Carlotta nodded, clearing her throat.

_Poor fool, he makes me laugh_

_Ha, ha, ha_

_Ha, ha CROAAAAAK_

_CROAAAK_

_CROAAAK_

_CROAAAK_

The Phantom laughed again, grabbing the rope to the chandiler.

"How appalling," he shouted. "She sings to bring down the chandiler!"

He pulled on the rope, making the chandiler shake. The theater erupted in screams for fear the chandiler would fall and one of the managers stood up as Carlotta ran off stage.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we apoligize. The performance will continue in ten minutes time when the role of the Countess will be played by Miss Daae."

I looked up, knowing that my Angel had something to do with Carlotta's voice. Then a comforting voice from above.

Not the Phantom.

Raoul.

"Don't worry, Christine. I'm here."

I nodded, running backstage, with Madame Giry.

As soon as I got my undergown on, I went backstage and was told that Carlotta wouldn't give up the costume. She was calming that I had put a spell on her or something. I sighed, putting my cloak on and looking up at the rafters, not believing what I was seeing. I saw the Phantom strangling Buquet.

I pushed stagehands out of the way, running up the stairs trying to get to him. I had to stop him. When I asked for his promise that Buquet wouldn't bother me again, I didn't mean to put him to death. I got half way up and I heard the theater erupt in screams yet again. I looked and I saw Buquet's body dangling and the Phantom was hanging onto the noose. I ran back down the stairs as the Phantom dropped the body, trying to breathe. This wasn't happening. My Angel had killed for me. If he could do this in dreams, what could Monsieur Destler do in reality?

I felt someone grab me. I almost screamed until I turned, seeing Raoul.

"Are you all right," he asked, looking at me.

"Raoul, you're not safe here," I said, grabbing his hand and dragging him up the stairs and onto the rafters level.

"Where are you taking me, Christine?"

"He'll kill you. I know he will."

"Wait. What are you talking about, Christine? Slow down!"

"The Phantom of the Opera! He'll kill you, Raoul! I know he will," I said, opening the door to the roof and running outside, into the lightly falling snow.

"Christine," he said, shutting the door, "there is no Phantom of the Opera. It's just a story."

"No, Raoul. I've been there. I've been in his home, in his world of unending night. I've seen him, Raoul, and I don't think I'll ever forget that sight. His face...so distorted, deformed...it was hardly a face in the darkness."

How could I be saying such things? I knew that I wasn't being myself. I never said such horrible things about Monsieur Destler. Why was this different?

"Oh, Christine..."

"But his voice filled my spirit with a strange sweet sound," I said, then I began to sing.

_In the night, there was music in my mind_

_And through music my soul began to soar_

_And I heard...as I never heard before..._

"What you heard, Christine, was a dream and nothing more."

I took a breath, singing again.

_Yet in his eyes_

_All the sadness of the world_

_Those pleading eyes that both threatened_

_And adored..._

"Christine, Christine..." Raoul said, coming up behind me, wrapping an arm protectively around me

Just then, a third voice spoke.

"Christine..."

I turned to Raoul, looking into his eyes, ignoring the strange voice that had called to me so many times.

He ran through my hair as he sang.

**No more talk of darkness**  
 **Forget your wide eyed fears**  
 **I'm here, nothing will harm you**  
 **My words will warm and calm you**  
 **Let me be your freedom**  
 **Let daylight dry your tears**  
 **I'm here, with you, beside you**  
 **To guard you and to guide you**

I sang a reply back to him, gripping his hands.

_Say you love me every waking moment_  
 _Turn my head with talk of summer time_  
 _Say you need me with you now and always_  
 _Promise me that all you say is true_  
 _That's all I ask of you_

He nodded, leaning down and kissing me gently. My first real kiss. I kissed him back with all of the passion and deepness that I could muster. He lifted me up, spinning me around.

"I better go. They'll wonder where I am."

He nodded, putting me down, taking my hand. "Let's go."

During my curtain call, as I bowed to the people, a booming voice yelled,

"GO!"

I looked up and chandiler began to fall, coming right for me.

"CHRISTINE," Raoul yelled, running to me and getting us both out of harm's away.

The chandiler was destroyed.

Raoul had left after he thought that I had gone to bed, but I wasn't asleep. I had began walking around the Opera House, running a hand through my hair, thinking about him.

Not Raoul.

The Phantom.

I made my way to the stage, where chandiler once was. The stage hands, along with some help from the police, helped clean up what was left of the chandiler after Raoul and Madame Giry helped me into my room. Why was the chandiler headed for me? Could it have been meant for Carlotta and he possibly forgot about it? I didn't know. I knew one thing. He had killed for me.

"You betrayed me tonight."

I gasped, turning around, seeing him.

"W-what do you mean?"

"You were with another man. Him."

I sighed. "I love him, Phantom. I'm sorry if I hurt you, but you --"

"You were the only woman I ever loved, Christine! You killed my song tonight!"

"I didn't mean to hurt you! I didn't know you cared so deeply for me!"

"You should know now!"

"I didn't want you to kill for me!"

"Then what did you want?!"

"Protection!"

"I did that tonight! I saw how he was touching you!"

"Then why didn't you come then!?"

"I would've killed him if I had my noose!"

"You're supposed to be my guardian! Killing is NOT a nice way of protecting me."

His lip curled, his eyes burning with anger.

"You have done your part, Christine," he snarled, glaring at me. "I do not need to hear anything more from you."

"Then...what was the point of this?"

"To say goodbye. For you'll never see me again."

"Y-you're leaving me? All because of Raoul?"

He just looked at me, coldness in his eyes.

"I shall never come near you again."

"But...my voice..."

"You will have your voice, but it will not be me there to guide you."

My lip trembled, looking at him.

"No need to shed tears."

I shook my head. "Never."

"Since I am leaving, I feel it would be proper to tell you my name."

"You have a name?"

He nodded. "Erik. Erik Destler."

I nodded, acknowledging it.

"I...I'll never forget you," I said, barely above a whisper.

He turned his back on me, slowly walking away.

"Goodbye, Miss Daae."

It was almost as if my feet were frozen. I wanted to chase after him, tell him not to go, to stay. Where would he go? He lived below. Then...a creak...and the door shut. I began to cry, leaning down until I was on my knees, holding my head in one hand while the other held me up. I had lost him. I lost Erik, My Angel, My Phantom, My Teacher...My Everything.


	9. Struggling

It had been almost a month since the senior class trip to Paris and we had started rehearsals for 'Beauty and the Beast' almost immediately after we returned. Some of the rehearsals went well, and others not so well. Monsieur Destler, along with everyone one that was in the ensemble, was getting stressed. He was getting aggrivated that the soloists wouldn't sing out more and the other ensemble members wouldn't quit mocking him.

Drake had gotten the part of Gaston, the villian, which was interesting on my part because everytime he had this big song called 'Me,' which I was in, I couldn't help but laugh because he was acting so obnoxious. At times, he was being so obnoxious that we would get into arguements. As the rest of the class found the arguements funny, Monsieur Destler did not. This guy named Jay, who was extremely shy, got the lead as the Beast. For someone who was shy, he had an amazing voice.

Buquet was still bothering me, in more ways than one. He actually pulled me out of Monsieur Destler's class just so he could do what he called 'pleasing me.' It was not pleasing at all. It was revolting and disgusting and he was nothing but a pig. I was so close to telling Monsieur Destler one day during my lessons, but I didn't. He and Buquet loathed each other. I couldn't tell Monsieur Destler something like that. What if he hung him like he did in the dream?

The dreams.

That was another thing. The dreams had stopped. I hadn't had one since the plane ride home. I could only hope that they were done for good, but I wanted to finish the story of Christine Daae. What happened to her? Did Erik come back?

"Everyone, please," Monsieur Destler yelled, throwing his score down onto the stage, breathing heavily. "We open in a month and you can't tell your left from your right? Come on, people! It's not that hard!"

I sighed, rolling my eyes.

Monsieur Destler was attempting to choreograph 'Be Our Guest' and he was stressed enough as it is. It was the tango part of the song where Lumiere the Candlestick and Babette the Featherduster danced together. Chrissy, my equivilant of Carlotta, was playing Babette, and it was obvious that Monsieur Destler was blaming her.

"Must you always blame me, Monsieur Destler," she asked, with her hands on her hips, standing next to the guy playing Lumiere.

"Well, when you can't dance..."

"Hey! I can dance!"

"Really? Show me then!"

She stood still, glaring at him.

"That's what I thought," he said. "You need to learn how to act and not rely on your normal trick of strutting around the stage."

She gasped, then Monsieur Destler turned to me, holding out his hand. "Sophia, would you join me please?"

I looked around and everyone was staring at me. "Me, Monsiuer?"

"Yes, you. You have to learn a dance as well. It's not the tango, but it is the waltz. Now, don't make me ask twice," he said, still holding out his hand.

I looked around and stood up. Jay wasn't there today, so Monsieur Destler was doing everything that he was supposed to. As I walked to him, everyone was wolf whistling and cat calling.

"Shut up," I said, then Monsieur Destler gently grabbed my chin, turning my face to his.

"Focus on me, Sophia," he said, moving one of my hands to his shoulder and taking my other hand in his.

"Ooh, look at Sophia," I heard Chrissy say. "She's blushing."

"Chrissy," I said, glaring at her, "don't make me come other there to kick your a --"

"Sophia," Monsieur Destler said sternly. "What did I say?"

I sighed, turning to look at him again. "Focus on you."

"That's right. Now," he said turning to the rest of the class, "if I hear another word out of any of you, you have dentention for the rest of the year and you're out of the production. Got it?"

"Yes, Monsieur Destler," the class said in unison.

"Good. Maria, start the song please."

As the song started, he let me go. I stepped away somewhat, but was still near him.

"Don't go away," he said to me, then said to the class as the words filled the auditourium, "if you have lines, say them on your cues. Sophia, you have to imagine that I am Jay, all right? Just imagine me as the Beast."

I nodded and waited for my cue, holding out my hand just as he had done for me, and said my line.

"Dance with me."

"No..."

"Dance with her," Lumiere and Cogsworth said.

He sighed, taking my hand. I placed my hand on his shoulder and he put his hand on my waist. He slowly began to dance with me. As we danced, it felt like that it was just us and no one else was there.

"For someone who doesn't dance much," he said softly, looking at me, "you move like a natural."

I smiled softly. "Thank you."

"If you want, along with your voice lessons," he said, twirling me around, "I can give you extra dance lessons."

"If you don't mind, that would be great."

"It's no problem at all. Also, see me after class."

I nodded, going back to sit down, ignoring eye contact with Drake.

After class and after some major persuasion to tell Drake to go on without me, I walked up to Monsiuer Destler, who was putting the CDs away.

"You wanted to see me, Monsieur Destler," I asked meekly, adjusting my bag on my shoulder.

"Come with me," he said sternly, walking away from me.

I followed him, swallowing some. By the sound of his voice, he wasn't very happy with me. He didn't have a reason to be unhappy. I was going to my voice lessons, which he provided for free, and I was doing well with my lines. What could've possibly have been wrong?

We walked into his office and there was a piece of paper on his desk. He sat down in his chair and I sat down in a chair in front of his desk.

"I've noticed that your music grade has been slipping."

Uh-oh. That was what was wrong. Damn you, Buquet.

"Oh," I asked, looking at him. "What do you mean?"

"Well, you usually have an A in my class, but I've noticed that since we've gotten back from Paris, you haven't been participating in class activities, your reports on composers have widdled down to almost nothing and now, because of these issues, your grade, which was an A at the beginning of the semester is now down to a C Plus."

I looked at him, shocked.

"A C Plus? You've got to be joking."

"Well, I'm not. Sophia, this is really bothering me. You're the most productive student in the class. You're always there to answer my questions, you sing whenever I want you to, but now you're handing off the questions to the other students and the only time I hear you sing is during rehearsal or voice lessons. Sophia...what's going on?"

That was the question that I was longing to answer. I longed to tell him everything, everything that was going on with me and Buquet, about how I was letting him touch me in my darkest places, all because I was trying to save him and his job, but I didn't.

I took a breath and replied, "I'm sorry, Monsieur Destler. Forgive me. With it being my senior year and the leading role in the musical, I guess it's just a bit of stress, that's all."

He looked at me. It was as if his eyes were burning through my soul, as if he saw through my lie.

He sighed, then said, "Very well, but don't think you're getting off so easily. You may be my favorite of the class, but you're going to work hard between now and the musical to get this grade back up. From now on, I want to see you here every Saturday morning at nine o'clock --"

"Nine o'clock in the morning!? You can't be serious!"

"To have extra music lessons and you will do a five page report on one star of the Opera House in Paris that we visited each week."

"Monsier Destler! This isn't fair!"

He slammed his fist on his desk, standing up and coming over to me. He towered over me. I felt small and weak, just like Christine did the night she said goodbye...to her Phantom of the Opera.

"It's either this, Miss Day, or I fail you for the year and no report or song will be able to save you."

I shuddered as he held the paper up in front of me. I took it and ran out of the room, slamming the door behind me. As soon as I was away from his office door, I pressed my back against a wall, slouching down, starting to cry. A C Plus? I had to have been dreaming. This wasn't happening. I've never gotten a C Plus in anything before, even music, my favorite subject. What was happening to me? Drake and I were fighting, I'm practically failing in music, my favorite subject, I'm in a rough spot with my favorite teacher, and I had a pervert principal molesting me. This definitely wasn't the life that I wanted.

I felt another shoe kicking at mine. I wiped my eyes and looked up, seeing Drake.

"Are you all right," he asked, bending down, handing me a tissue, placing his hand on my leg as I blew my nose quietly.

"Yes. Please, can you just...take me home? I need to rest."

He nodded, helping me up off the floor and walking me to his car.

"Chrissy's starting rumors again," he said, holding my hand tightly.

"Please," I asked, getting into his car, "not a word about Chrissy, rehearsals, or anything. Okay?"

He nodded, getting in and starting the car, beginning to drive. I curled up into a ball in the seat, closing my eyes. The only thing I remember was Drake taking my hand and saying, "I love you."


	10. Is This Love I'm Feeling?

"Think of it, a secret engagement," I said softly, playing with the gorgeous diamond ring that was on a long silver chain that was around my neck. I looked down, seeing a beautiful, flowing pink gown and I had a mask in my hand. I looked around and smiled brightly. I was back. I was back in the Opera House and during a masquerade ball. I turned and I saw...

Raoul. Or Drake. Or...whatever.

Whoa. Talk about awkard, and yet I smiled. Why was I thinking, 'This is not the person I want to be engaged to?' I don't know, but I continued talking anyway.

"Look: your future bride. Just think of it."

"But why is it a secret? What have we to hide? You promised me," he asked in a hushed voice, stopping and turning me to him. Slowly, he leaned down to kiss me.

All of a sudden, I felt a chill go down my spine, getting the feeling that I was being watched. Not by the many people at the ball.

The Phantom.

I pulled away, putting my fingers to his lips.

"No, Raoul, please don't. They'll see."

"Well, then, let them see. It's an engagement, not a crime. Christine, what are you afraid of?"

"Let's not agrue. Please pretend that you will understand in time."

"I can only hope that I will understand in time."

Those last words that he spoke stung me. He smiled, pulling me out onto the dance floor and beginning to dance with me. It was an amazing party. Everyone looked so nice, even Madame Giry, who looked like she had just come from Japan. I couldn't help but join the members of the Opera House as they began to sing.

_Masquerade,_

_Paper faces on parade,_

_Masquerade._

_Hide your face so the world will never find you._

_Masquerade,_

_Every face a different shade,_

_Masquerade._

_Look around,_

_There's another mask behind you._

_Masquerade,_

_Burning glances, turning heads._

_Masquerade,_

_Stop and stare at the sea of smiles around you._

_Masquerade,_

_Grinning yellows,_

_Spinning reds,_

_Masquerade._

_Take your fill,_

_Let the spectacle astound you._

I went back and rejoined Raoul, smiling as everyone sang and danced as the confetti began to fall from the ceiling. I kissed his cheek, leaning into him. Then, the lights dimmed and everyone froze. Everyone turned to the stairs and the ballroom erupted in surprised gasps. There was a man, dressed in a vibrant red and gold suit with a red cape and a white mask that covered all of his face except for his lower jaw and mouth, make up as black as night around his icy, threatening, blue-green eyes. It was him.

The Phantom of the Opera had returned.

He slowly made his way down the stairs, looking around as everyone cleared a path for him, afraid of what he might do if they didn't.

"Why so silent, good monsieurs," he asked, looking out at the crowd, his voice booming, just as it always was as he continued to walk. "Did you think that I had left you for good? Have you missed me, good monsiuers? I have written you an opera! Here, I bring the finished score:  _Don Juan Triumphante_!"

"I'll be back," Raoul whispered, patting my back lightly, then ran off.

I nodded slightly as I watched Erik throw a black satchel down to the floor, music spilling out of the black leather bag.

He drew his sword quickly, speaking again. "Fondest greetings to you all. A few instructions just before rehearsals start. Carlotta must be taught to act, not her normal trick of strutting 'round the stage."

He rustled the green, fluffy feather on top of Carlotta's head with his sword. Piangi stepped forward, preparing to defend his lady. Erik pointed his sword at him, the fat man halting his approach and gazing up at the Phantom's dangerous eyes. Erik shook his head warningly, as if to say, 'I wouldn't do that if I were you.'

Smoothly, he continued. "Our Don Juan must lose some weight. It's not healthy for a man of Piangi's age, and my managers must learn that their place is in an office, not the arts!"

The Phantom strolled over to Monsieur Firmin and Monsieur Andre, waving his sword for emphasis as he spoke. Then, he pointed the tip of his blade at both of them threateningly. Finally, he turned to me, a small, yet devilish smile on his face. I swallowed, watching him. He brought his hand up and beckoned me with his index finger. As I began to slowly walk toward him, he began to speak again.

"As for our star, Miss Christine Daae...no doubt she'll do her best. It's true, her voice is good. She knows, though, should she wish to excel, she has much still to learn. If pride will let her return to me, her teacher...her teacher," Erik declared, pointing to himself rather proudly. Suddenly, his voice softened as he spoke the last few words, as if they were just now settling in.

I soon found myself, standing on the stairs with him in front of me. It seemed that time had stood still and there was so much that I wanted to say. Why did you leave? Why are you back? Don't you know that you are and always will be my angel? Didn't you know that I love you?

Whoa. Wait. I love him? Well...did I?

He looked down at the ring around my neck, grabbing it gently.

"Your chains are still mine," he yelled, yanking and breaking the silver chain that held my ring that was now in his hand. "You belong to me!"

Without another word, the floor dropped beneath him and he disappeared as everyone screamed. Raoul went after him as the managers came and grabbed me to keep me from following them. But they didn't know that I had my own way down.

After all of the excitment had died down for the night, I slid my mirror open and stepped into the passageway, slowly closing the mirror behind me. I made my way down into the catacombs, being careful of where I stepped. Once I got to the lake, something inside was telling me to turn around, that Erik didn't want to see me, but I wanted to see him. I  _needed_  to see him, and ask him why he came back. The opera that he had written was not the only reason. There was something more.

Once I got across the lake, I stepped out of the boat and walked towards where his bedroom was. The lair hadn't changed much. There was still music everywhere and the mirrors that he had were still covered to hide the reflection of his scarred face. On the piano bench sat the musical box, the melody playing softly as the monkey clapped the small cymbols together. I smiled softly as I listened to it, realizing that it was the same song that we sang that night. I began walking towards the bedroom, wondering where he could've gone. I turned a corner and I saw him, his mask off, removing the black make up that he was wearing at the ball.

"Erik," I called softly, taking a small step inside.

He jumped at my voice, hurriedly putting the mask back on and standing up quickly, turning to look at me.

"What are you doing here," he demanded, coming over to me.

Before I could reply, I looked at his eyes, which had rings around them. It made him look like a raccoon. I smiled softly, trying not to laugh.

"What are you smiling about," he growled, looking down at me.

"Uh...you have rings around your eyes," I said, which was followed by a soft giggle.

He growled, going back to his desk, trying to clean his eyes without taking his mask off.

"Would you mind if I helped you," I asked, going over to him.

"Go away!" he yelled at me, then went back to trying to clean himself up.

I shook my head, kneeling in front of him and pulling his mask off, revealing his scarred face.

"Are you insane?!" he yelled, trying to get his mask back, but I threw behind me, holding him down as he tried to lunge for it.

"No. I just want to help you," I said sternly, getting a bench and sitting down, turning his face to me as I began to wipe his face off, gently.

"Why are you here," he asked, his tone more gentle now.

"Why did you come back," I asked, continuing to wipe his face.

"I...I never really left," he replied softly, closing his eyes so I could get the rest of the make up off.

"Have you been down here for six months and you didn't even bother to come to me?"

"You were always with him."

"He has a name.

"So do all of the other animals in the world."

I took a deep breath, continuing to clean his face off.

"You never answered my question," he said, placing his hand over mine.

"I came back for my ring."

He smirked. "Well, I am not giving it back."

"And why not?" I asked, finishing.

"Because you still belong to me," he replied, standing up.

"Well, what if I came back to you?"

He looked down at me, stunned. But then, he smiled softly.

"I would be very happy, Christine, and you would get your ring back," he said, going over and picking up his mask, putting it back on.

"Well...when will I see you again?"

"Sometime soon," he said, walking back over to me, taking my hand and kissing it.

I smiled, looking at him. "So I'm not going to get my ring back, am I?"

"Not yet."


	11. A Truth About Saturday

I shot up from my bed as soon as my alarm went off. I rubbed my eyes and looked at the calender. Saturday. My first Saturday with Monsiuer Destler. I sighed, getting up from my bed and going to my closet, grabbing a sweatshirt and some jogging pants, pulling the pants on first. I looked at my self in the mirror, before I put my sweatshirt on and sighed. I had a bruise on my arm from Buquet. I pulled on the hoodie, grabbed my bag and left my house, biking my way to the school finding the door already open. I walked into the classroom, taking my seat at my desk, not noticing that he was sitting in the back of the room.

"Your assignment is on the board."

I gasped, turning around, seeing him.

"Monsiuer, don't scare me like that," I said, putting a hand to my chest, hoping that my heart rate would slow down.

"Sorry," he said, walking towards the front of the class room where his desk was.

"It's fine," I said, reaching into my bag, pulling my laptop out of my bag and setting it on my desk.

"All right, start whenever you are ready."

I looked up at the board, looking at the topic. Madame Antoinette Giry was written there. I nodded slightly, starting to type. I outlined what I knew about her, then started to type. Was it me or was it hot in the class room? It was never this hot in here before. As I continued to type I got hotter, so I decided to shed my hoodie, leaving me in the tank top that I had slept in. I had completely forgotten about my bruise. I thought that Monsieur Destler had left the room until he sat down in the desk next to mine and watched me as I typed.

"Where did you get the bruise from," he asked, looking at my arm.

"Nowhere," I replied quickly, hurriedly pulling the hoodie back on.

"Bullshit."

I gasped.

"Monsieur! I've never heard you curse before," I said, standing up.

He stood up as well, coming around the desk to talk to me. "Sophia, if Drake is abusing you, you need to confide in someone. An adult."

"You?"

"Possibly."

I breathed in deeply, saving the paper and shutting my laptop. I was about to do something very brave.

"Monsieur, would you mind if you sat down?"

He sat back down at the desk he previously sat at as I took a seat in the chair at his desk, crossing my legs as I sat.

"It's not Drake who's abusing me."

"Is it your one of your parents?"

"No."

"Then who is it," he asked, very concerned.

"I...it's someone that you're not very fond of."

"Chrissy?"

"No."

"Sophia, please...just tell me."

"I...it's...it's Buquet."

"What? What do you mean?"

"Since Paris, Buquet...he has...he's been molesting me."

"WHAT!" he yelled, bolting upright, grabbing the edge of the desk.

I couldn't reply, watching the rage grow within him. His eyes seemed to fill with anger as he grabbed the desk and threw it across the room, smashing a window, but not breaking it all of the way.

"Monsieur Destler, stop!" I yelled, standing and jumping over the desk, standing in front of him, gripping his arms. He was breathing heavily, his chest heaving, his muscles revealing themselves through his shirt.

"Please," I pleaded, not letting go, "calm down. This is my fault. I let it go on when I shouldn't have."

"This is not your fault, Sophia. It's mine. I should've stayed in the room that night he went there."

"No. You needed your rest. I want to stop. I do."

"Then refuse. Next time he pulls you out of class, just say that you can't."

"I can't."

"Why can't you?"

"Because I'm protecting your job," I blurted out, tears in my eyes.

"What," he said, softly, taking my hands and looking into my eyes.

"He...he said that if I didn't go along with it that he would say that it was you instead of him. I couldn't let you lose your job. You're the best thing that has happened to this school. I couldn't bear you losing your job because of me."

"You were the best thing that has happened to me in a while, Sophia," he said, brushing some hair out of my eyes. "We'll fight this. We will."

"But he'll win."

"No. I won't let him win you," he said, stepping very close to me, his lips very close to mine. "That I promise you, my Sophia."

He took my face into his hands, looking at me closely, as if he was a curious child just staring at something new. He leaned down, closing his eyes slowly. As I closed mine, he brushed his lips very softly against mine, almost afraid that he would hurt me. I did the same in return, our noses touching lightly as my hands moved up his arms and were placed on the back of his neck. He shivered at my touch, almost as if it was winter in the room when it was outside. His hands slid down my arms and ended at my waist, where he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me close, my body pressing against his. My arms moved around his neck as we didn't speak another word, but stood there, giving soft and gentle kisses to one another, savoring every single one.


	12. Summoning The Courage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING!  
> Before you read this chapter, I want to warn you that I wrote this chapter with a rape scene. If you are squeamish and do not like to read that sort of stuff, please skip over the scene or over to the next chapter. ~DP

"Christine…Christine…" Erik's voice sang gently in the middle of the night. I slowly awoke from my bed, sitting up and pulling my robe on. I rubbed my eyes as I looked at the small clock that was on my vanity. 2:30 am.  _He's picking a wonderful time to have lessons_ , I thought, standing near the mirror.

"Are you awake, my love," he asked softly, afraid that he was going to wake someone.

"I am, my Angel," she said, turning towards the mirror, a small smile playing across my lips.

He slowly opened the mirror and gently pulled me inside, smiling down at me, kissing my forehead.

"I have a surprise for you."

"You do? Why couldn't you have given my surprise to me in my room?"

"Because he is sleeping right outside your door. He would've heard you."

I gave him a stern look, as if I had warned him about calling Raoul 'he,' 'his,' or 'him.'

He sighed, and then mumbled, "Raoul."

I nodded, smiling softly.

He looked down at me, smiling, pulling a blindfold out and tying it around my eyes. I giggled lightly, feeling his hands moving around the back of my head.

"What are you doing?"

"Just trust me," he said, picking me up and cradling me as he began to walk down the corridor. He began humming softly, one of the songs from the opera that he had written. We were in rehearsal for his opera, but I wondered what he was doing. It was 2:30 in the morning. If he had wanted me for a lesson, he could've gotten me at 11:00 or at midnight like he usually did. Maybe Raoul was still awake. The mysteriousness of him blindfolding me was intriguing, almost sexy at one point. I felt myself being gently placed in the gondola and it began to move, going to his home.

"What are you doing," I asked again, hoping that he would give me some kind of hint on what the surprise was, but he ignored me and continued humming.

I felt the gondola come to a stop and Erik got out of it. As I turned my head as if to see where he was going, even though I was blindfolded, I felt two gloved hands grab mine, lifting me and gently pulling me towards the edge of the boot. He picked me up once again, cradling me like a small child who was asleep. He never spoke a word, but I had a slight feeling that he was smiling. We walked through the corridor to the most private part of his home. His bedroom.

"Erik, please, take off the blindfold," I asked kindly and softly, feeling him stop.

"All in good time, my beautiful angel," he whispered into my ear, kissing it lightly.

I felt myself being lowered and I felt the familiar fabric of his silk and cotton sheets. I laid my head against the pillows, my eyes closed beneath the blindfold, wondering what he was doing. He had to be nearby; I could hear him moving around. He was still humming. He moved towards the bed, sitting down beside me, resting his now ungloved hand on my stomach, and then it traveled down to my inner thigh, gently and slowly spreading my legs apart. I took a sharp breath; my eyes shooting open beneath the blindfold.

"What are you --?"

"No words, my Angel. Only feeling. Only experiencing."

I nodded as his hand slowly moving up, moving closer and closer to my secrets. I could feel my heart racing, his fingers tracing along the entrance to my core. I gasped quietly, never feeling his before. I could feel a smile creeping across his lips. I felt one of his fingers at my entrance, almost teasingly, moving up and down, as if he was waiting for the sign that it would be okay. Not meaning to, I let out a soft moan and that was the sign. I gave him the signal to enter me. And he did.

There was something wrong. I gasped in pain. There was something moving in and out sharply and roughly. And it wasn't his finger.

Then I remembered.

I was alone in my house.

My eyes shot open. I was back in my room and there was a body lying on top of me, their hips moving roughly against mine. I cried out, clawing and fighting this man in the mask. As if I was going to pull his hair, I pulled on the mask and it flew off of their face and onto the floor, revealing the face of the person who was causing me so much pain.

Buquet.

"A little wider, Sophia," he groaned, continuing to move his hips against mine. "Spread your legs wider for me."

"No!" I cried, tears streaming down my face, continuing to fight him. "Get off me! You're hurting me!"

"No, baby; it's going to get better. Just open up for me."

"I'm not your baby! Get off of me!"

"You're close. I know it. So am I," he groaned loudly, his hips moving quicker and faster.

"I don't even know what close is! Please! Stop!"

He ignored me, moaning loudly with one final thrust into me, holding me down, and looking down at me, my sobs heavy and showed no sign of stopping. My virginity was ripped from me. And it was his. Forever. He pulled his organ from me and pulled the condom off, beginning to dress.

"I was happy to see that your parents were out of town," he said, a smug smile on his face.

"Why," I sobbed, covering myself with the sheets. "Why? Why did you do it?"

"I told you that it would come to this," he said, grabbing the mask, stuffing it into his coat pocket.

"You broke into my house!"

"On the contrary," he said, pulling a folded sheet of paper out of his other pocket, tossing it onto my bed.

I took it unfolding it, reading it to myself.

_From: Sophia Day_

_To: Joseph Buquet_

_Date: 4-20-07 9:30 am_

_Can't wait to see you tonight, lover. I'll be sure to leave the door unlocked. You can walk right in._

_Sophia_

"What the fuck? I didn't send this."

"Maybe not, but you accuse me of rape and molestation, guess what the police are going to get," he said, his finger tapping the paper.

"But…I didn't leave…"

"Yeah, you did…or rather…Drake did."

I let out a shuddering gasp. Drake had been there earlier that night. He must have forgotten to lock the door when he left.

"Well, tonight was fun, lover," he said, coming over and kissing my lips. "I'll see you around for another visit."

And with that, he left, going down the stairs and leaving through the front door. What was I going to do? How could I escape him? And then it hit me.

Monsieur Destler.

I stayed in what clothes I had on and snuck out my window, running to his house. I couldn't stop myself. I needed to be near him. I didn't car what happened. I needed him to go to the police with me. This Buquet thing was over and I was making sure of it. I got to his front door, pounding on it, out of breath and out of patience. The porch light switched on as I continued to pound on the door until he opened it, shirtless and only in boxers.

"I hope you realize what time it is, Miss Day," he said sternly, glaring at me.

"Does it look like I give a shit about what time it is? I just got fucking raped by your boss and my principal!"

His gaze softened, pulling me into a hug.

"Don't touch me," I said, going inside his house.

"Why are you here? What if he followed you?"

"He didn't. I need to go to the police and you're going with me."

"Then they'll take you to the hospital and then they'll make me give a DNA sample."

"Then it'll clear you."

"Okay, what about the other faculty members? What are they going to say?"

"I need you to talk to the computer administrator."

"McGregor," he asked, going to pull on some shorts, since he realized that he was completely…well, almost completely naked.

"If they go to Buquet, he's going to show them a fake email that I supposedly sent him. McGregor monitors everyone's email accounts and I know that Buquet doesn't know McGregor's password. He gets into my email account and proves that the email is a fraud and we won't have to deal with him anymore. We'll be together."

"You still have Drake," he said pulling his shirt on.

"I know, but I don't want him anymore. I want you."

He looked over at me, shocked. He couldn't believe what I just said. His look towards me turned cold, heartless, as if he was going to hit me and not care.

"How can you want a monster like me," he asked, his voice cold and hard, his eyes stern and not caring.

"I do. I always have, Monsieur. Didn't you know that I was always singing to you? And only for you?"

He shook his head, pulling a shirt on and then a sweatshirt. "I'm sorry, Sophia. I don't feel the same way about you."

My mouth fell open. The dreams. Were they just lies? And what about our Saturdays together? Lies as well. Everything was lies to me. Everything. Drake, Monsiuer Destler. Everything. I walked up to him and I slapped him hard across his face, hot tears stinging in my eyes. His head turned as I slapped him, a visible red mark appearing quickly.

"I wash my hands of you," I said bitterly, heading towards the door, opening it. I turned back to him, seeing the hurt look on his face. I, however, didn't feel any sympathy for him. "I'm done with you. You can find yourself another pet and another Belle. I'm done."

"Sophia," he said, coming towards me, grabbing my arm and pulling my close, my face close to his. "You can either ignore the fact that you were raped by Buquet and let this shit continue or you can trust me."

"Trust you?! I don't want to trust you! You've hurt me, Erik!"

He took a step back, releasing my arm. I had called him by his first name and I didn't care. I took off and ran out the door and I didn't quit until I found myself in front of the police station. I walked inside and walked up to the front desk to the police woman. 

"Can I help you?"

I hope so. "I need to report a rape."


	13. Emotions

I reported the rape, and told the police everything about what Buquet had been doing to me since the class trip to Paris. They called my parents, and took me to the hospital and took samples from every part and crevice of me. The police told me that with the evidence I provided them, Buquet would be arrested and charged with rape and sexual assault. Even though I felt very relieved that I had done the right thing, I couldn't help to think about what I had said and done to Monsieur Destler. I had slapped him, and pretty much told him to fuck off in a sense. Not only that, I told him to find another Belle. How could I have done that, after I had worked so hard to get that part? When my parents came to pick me up from the hospital, they had brought Drake along. The police told my parents what had happened, and with that, they released me into their custody. When I came out, they couldn't look at me. I looked at them questioningly, wondering what I had done wrong. Drake walked with me out to my parents' car, not saying a word.

"Drake? Please," I said quietly before getting into the car, "Please say something. I don't like you being this quiet."

His reply was cold and unemotional. "We will talk...tomorrow."

With that, he put me in the backseat and slammed the car door. My parents drove back to our house, not saying anything until they saw the house surrounded by police and them searching throughout the house for more evidence against Buquet. My father threw the car's gearshift into park, and my mother turned around and looked at me with the harshest eyes that I had ever seen.

"I just don't see how you could have brought this upon yourself. You were such a good girl."

I merely looked at her, swallowing a lump in my throat. "I didn't ask for this to happen."

"Well, you must have done something to make him want you," my father said in reply, still watching the police coming in and out of our home.

"I didn't do anything! How are you not being more supportive?"

"We're trying, Sophie, but you're making it very difficult."

"How am I making anything difficult?"

My father let out a long sigh, then he turned around in his seat to look at me. "We know you're not telling the truth."

"What are you talking about? I told the police everything! They have everything off my back and then some to press charges against Buquet!"

"Mr. Buquet has told us of your relationship with Mr. Destler."

I just blinked, then let out an angry breath. "You are both fucking morons," I said through gritted teeth, getting out of the car and slamming the door shut with all of my might. I walked up to the house, not caring if the police were trying to keep me out. I ran up the stairs to my room, which was still swarming with cops. "Get what you need and get out! Get out and leave me alone!" I ran to my bathroom, slamming the door shut and locking it, slowly sinking down to the floor. How could this be? How could they think that I have any kind of relationship with Monsieur Destler? Buquet must be trying to cover his tracks, building a case against mine. I sighed heavily, wishing I could have erased it all. Wish it all away. I looked at my arms, my wrists, wondering how painful would it be to end it all. Suddenly, there was a knock on my door.

"Miss Day? We're leaving. Your room is a mess, but we got what we needed."

"Fine," I said in a short tone. "Thank you."

I listened as the footsteps faded from my bedroom, and the house grew quiet. I walked back out into my room, my skin crawling with disgust as I looked around. I couldn't stand to be in there. I grabbed a pillow and a clean blanket and returned to my bathroom, shutting and locking the door once more. I placed both my pillow and blanket on the floor before I ran the water in the bathtub, making it as hot as I could stand it. I put some lavendar bubble bath into the water and slowly climbed in, letting water wash over me. I closed my eyes, leaning back against the wall of the bathtub. My mind was whirling. What was going to happen now? And what was going to happen at school the next day? Hopefully, Buquet had been arrested already, and was sitting in a jail cell. But what if he wasn't? What if he was going to come back? What if he was going to be at school? Where was Drake? What was he doing? And what about Monsieur Destler? I washed myself off, scrubbing my skin as hard as I could, getting out of the tub, drying and putting my pajamas on. I laid on the floor, curled into a ball, and settled into a night of no sleep.

The next day, I walked to school alone. My mother and my father were still prying into my so-called relationship with Monsieur Destler, and not in the mood to reply to their questions, I left with my bookbag on my back and my purse in hand and began to walk. It wasn't long after I left my house that Drake pulled up beside me, driving slowly and rolling down the window.

"You do know that school is a few miles away, right?"

"Do I look like I give a shit," I replied coldly, continuing to walk, turning a corner to continue down the block. Drake stopped the car, put it in park, getting out, and stepping in front of me to stop me.

"Get in the car...please," he said softly, taking my hand in his. I let out a low sigh, moving to get into the passenger side of his car. I buckled my seat belt as he got in, buckling his own and starting to drive. I just looked out the window, noticing that we were taking the long way to school.

"Why are you going this way," I asked softly, my hand on my head. "We'll be late."

"I'm ready to talk now, and I figured that it might take a while."

"Okay, so talk."

"Why didn't you tell me what Buquet was doing to you?"

"Because I couldn't tell anyone, otherwise Monsieur Destler would have lost his job."

I noticed him clench the steering wheel, not looking at me. "So you were protecting him when you should have been worrying about yourself."

"Drake...I didn't want this to happen to me. And it escalated. Last night proved that."

"Because you didn't refuse Buquet, Soph. You just let him do that to you."

"Drake, please," I pleaded as he pulled up to the school, "I need you to be supportive of me right now. Mom and Dad aren't doing a very good job of it. They think that I'm lying and that it was really Monsieur Destler." He drove forcefully into a parking spot, throwing it in park and turning off the car.

"I'll try, but I need some space," he said, and with that, he got out of his car, grabbing his things, and heading up to the school. As I looked out the window, I saw the staring eyes of my classmates and others staring at me as I slowly emerged from Drake's car, looking over and seeing a cop car. I shuddered, cringing. I knew who they were here for. As I walked up the courtyard, the two lead detectives who interviewed me came out of the doors of the school, escrorting a cuffed Buquet from the school. He stopped walking as he saw me, giving me a smug smirk.

"I'll see you soon, my dear," he said in a sneering tone, trying to lean and kiss me. One of the detectives yanked on him, dragging him down to the police car. As I turned towards the school, I saw all of the eyes of schoolmates and teachers on me. As I took my first steps toward the school, the whispers began. I felt so nausous, but I continued my steps, my head held high as the whispers traveled between mouths and ears. I stopped at my locker, slowly turning the lock, trying to remember my combination. I didn't know that Crissy had came behind me with her entourage, her hands on her hips.

"So, that's what you've been hiding all of this time," she said with a sneer and smirk as I opened my locker, putting my things away. When I didn't reply, she came closer to me, putting her hand on the locker beside mine. "It's a wonder to me why he chose you," she said in a normal voice, then leaned in to whisper, "I gave myself willingly."

I looked up at her for a moment, then turned back to my locker, grabbing a textbook.

"What is it, Sophie? Couldn't you take it? Did you have to tell him to stop?"

I stood frozen, emotionless.

"Or do you not want to admit that you enjoyed it? Every...single...inch," she said, flicking my hair.

Something inside of me snapped. I took the textbook that I had in my hands, swung around and hitting Crissy in the face with it. Her head snapped back as blood began to gush from her nose and she yelled. I tackled her to the floor as other students turned and saw that there was a fight, surrounding us as I began to pound my hands into her face and to her ribs. Crissy was screaming for help as she covered herself, students cheering for both me and her as teachers began to flood the scene, trying to break through the sea of students. It wasn't long after I landed one last punch to her face when I felt myself being physically lifted off of her and someone's arms wrapping around my waist as I tried to kick her, screaming angrily as I tried to go after her. Then, the grip of the person holding me grew tighter to restrain me, and a soft voice went through my ear.

"Sophia...shh...calm yourself..."

I breathed heavily, no longer trying to escape from the grip as students departed and went to their classrooms and Crissy was being escorted by two teachers to the nurse's office. I began to scratch and claw at his arms, which only caused him to hold me tighter and restrain my arms with one arm while holding me with the other.

"Breathe," he said softly and calmly, slowly setting my feet on the ground. "Breathe deeply. Remember where you are."

My breaths became deeper and slower as I began to relax, feeling my body close to his as he held me. I closed my eyes, lowering my head as I finally gave into his grip, feeling the pain in my hands from the fight.

"Why are you here? You shouldn't be here today," he said quietly, his grip slowly loosening. My eyes shot open and I weasled out of his grip, turning around to face him.

"Leave me alone," I said, getting my now bloody textbook and heading to class.

Much to my surprise, I wasn't pulled out of classes and suspended for the day by the vice principal for what I had done to Crissy. However, everyone else in the school pretty much treated me like a leper for the rest of the day. My knuckles were raw, torn, and still a little bloody from the fight, but I was holding my own. I didn't feel great after the fight, but it did feel great to give someone as much pain as I was feeling. After school, I put my things in my locker and headed down to the auditorium for rehearsal, only to find a sign on the locked door that simply said 'Rehearsal Canceled.' Frustrated, I let out a yell and slammed my sore fist into the door. Wincing, I pulled my hand away, shaking it lightly. I didn't know that I was being watched.

"You didn't answer my question," he said softly as he emerged from the shadows, his hands in his pockets.

She turned to face him for a moment, then turned her eyes back to the sign. "Why is rehearsal canceled?"

"Why were you here today?"

"Goddamn it, why is rehearsal canceled," I yelled, my words echoing throughout the empty hallways of the school. He came toward me, grabbing my arm and pushing me against the wall, making sure that I would stay there.

"Because you are in no shape to rehearse right now," he said harshly, his deep blue eyes staring down at me. "Look at you: the star of the school musical, lashing out at classmates and teachers. You could have killed Crissy if I hadn't pulled you off of her."

"You should have just let me," I said back, and his grip became tighter and I let out a small gasp.

"Are you listening to yourself right now, Sophia? You're losing it!"

"I don't care! I don't want to be here anymore! I do not want to live anymore!"

He placed his lips on mine quickly and pulled on me hard, our lips still locked as his grip slowly loosened. He slowly pulled me in for a hug after he kissed me, his hand entwined in my hair.

"You are not alone, Sophia. You will never be alone."

I melted slowly at his words and I laid my head on his shoulder, slowly wrapping my arms around him. I finally felt safe again, for the moment, even if it was just for a moment. He slowly pulled away from me, moving his hand to mind, stroking the top of it with his thumb. "Rest tonight, okay? And take the day off tomorrow. You don't need to be here among these sharks. And Sophia, my darling, sleep. You need it."

I nodded slowly as he lifted my hand to plant a small kiss upon it. "I'm sorry."

"I know you are. Just go home and rest."

I nodded, going back to my locker to get my things and I began the walk home. I sighed softly, feeling a little relieved that I had at least one person on my side, and that he cared for me.


	14. Sophia Meets the Prosecutor and Composer

When I had returned home, my parents were gone once again. They must have gone to the country club or somewhere to get away from the drama that had been caused by me. As I walked up the sidewalk, I heard a car door shut behind me and I stopped. I turned around and saw a man in a dark suit, carrying a briefcase. He was an older man, and looked pretty important to be coming to my door. I headed to the porch, stopping and turning again as he cleared his throat.

"Sophia Day," he asked in a professional manner, stopping just a few steps before the stairs leading to the porch. When I nodded, he held out his hand and introduced himself. "I'm ADA Christopher Nolan. I'm the prosecutor who will be handling your case with James Buquet."

I nodded softly, shaking his hand and inviting him up to the porch. "Would you like something to drink," I asked softly, knowing that he probably noticed my hands and how bloody and battered they were.

"No, thank you," he said, looking down at my hands before he sat down in one of the chairs on the porch. I followed his lead, taking the seat to his left. "Rough day," he asked, his eyes moving from my hands to my face, studying me.

"I got into a fight with another girl at school today," I shrugged, not saying anything more than that. Mr. Nolan just nodded, getting the case file out of his briefcase and opening it.

"I just wanted to hear your statement again that you gave to the police last night, and make sure that everything is just as it should be. So I'm going to ask you some questions, and I want you to answer the best that you can, okay?"

"Yes, sir," I said, pulling my knees to my chest as I sat in the chair.

"Okay. First, I would like you to walk me through the accident that you had on the senior class trip that landed you in the hospital."

"Okay. Well, we were touring the Paris Opera House and I wandered away from the group. The chandelier fell and I pushed Monsieur Destler out of the way just before it landed on me. I wound up in the hospital with a couple of cracked ribs."

"Now, who is Monsieur Destler?"

"Monsieur Destler is the music teacher at our high school. He was one of our chaperones on the senior class trip."

"Was Mr. Buquet on this trip as a chaperone as well?"

"No, sir, he wasn't. He didn't show up in Paris until the night I was in the hospital."

"This is when you say the molestation began, is that correct?"

"Yes, it began that same night."

"Do you have any idea why he would have chosen you, or why he continued to molest you until the night before last?"

"The only thing that I have in my mind was that I was Monsieur Destler's favorite student and he used that to his advantage. He pretty much told me that if I refused him, he would be fired and he would receive the blame for what Mr. Buquet was doing to me."

Mr. Nolan gave a nod, writing some things down on his legal pad. "You're currently in the school musical, is that correct?"

I nodded, adjusting myself to sit properly and crossing my legs. "We've been in rehearsals since we returned from Paris. Mr. Buquet continued to molest me throughout the time."

"All right, Sophia. I know this is going to be difficult for you, but I need you to walk me through the night of the rape."

I let out a low, shuddering breath, wrapping my arms around myself before I began to review the events of that terrible night. "My parents were not at home, but my boyfriend was here and we watched a movie. I wasn't feeling well, so I went upstairs to bed while he cleaned up our dishes and left. He forgot to lock the door when he left. I was sleeping when Mr. Buquet came in. The next thing I knew, I felt this sharp pain and he was…" I took a breath, holding back tears. I regained myself after a few minutes. "He was pushing inside of me. I screamed and fought at him, telling him to stop, but he didn't. He…used a condom."

"You know, Miss Day, there are a lot of girls who don't come forward with something like this. You are being very brave."

I merely nodded, wishing that I was being held and comforted by anyone. My parents. Drake. Monsieur Destler. Anyone.

"So you were a virgin when he raped you," Mr. Nolan pressed, writing more notes down on his legal pad.

"Yes, sir…I was." I hadn't come to grips with the fact that my virginity had been ripped from me. It was something special that I wanted to give willingly and lovingly to someone I loved in the future.

"Miss Day, I just want to brace you for what lies ahead. Buquet has a shark of a lawyer, and he's already building his case up against ours. We have enough evidence from your examination at the hospital and your room to put him away, and your story hasn't changed, which is a good thing. Now, there is something else that I need to know, and then I will be on my way."

"Yes, sir, Ask what you need to ask."

"Are there any other men in your life that you have been close to, men that aren't your father or another male family member?"

I nodded. "There are only two: Drake and Monsieur Destler."

"How close are you to Mr. Destler?"

"As close as any student and teacher could be."

"He hasn't made any advances towards you?"

I thought about my next statement carefully, thinking about the kiss that Monsieur Destler had given me on our first Saturday together, and the one that he had given me just an hour before. I could still feel his soft lips against mine as I closed my eyes, thinking about what I wanted to say. I took a breath as I opened my eyes again, looking at Mr. Nolan. "Monsieur Destler has not made any advances towards me, or any other student. As for Mr. Buquet, I know that he has had sex with one other student besides me."

"May I have her name, please?"

"Her name is Christine Page, but everyone calls her Chrissy."

"Are you friends with her?"

I scoffed, showing him my hands. "Hardly, Mr. Nolan. She was the girl that I got into a fight with today at school."

He nodded. "I'd hate to see what she looks like, from the looks of your hands."

"Trust me, she's feeling some pain."

He nodded, jotting a few more notes down before speaking again. "Miss Day, here is what's going to happen over the course of the next couple of weeks. In order for you to not testify in court, we're going to try and plead Mr. Buquet out. We are prepared to offer him Rape in the First Degree, and he will serve fifteen years in prison. If we can get more girls from your school to come forward, we will have a stronger case, and he'll serve fifteen years for every girl that he assaulted. However, there is one stipulation. If Buquet doesn't take the deal that we are going to offer him, we will have to go to trial and he has already invoked his right to a quick and speedy trial, so we will start proceedings next week if he doesn't accept the deal. Do you understand what I just told you?"

"Yes, Mr. Nolan," I replied, standing up from my seat. He stood up as well, holding out his hand for me to shake again. I took it, shaking his hand and offering me a kind and reassuring smile.

"Everything is going to be all right, Miss Day," he said, stepping down off of the porch, turning to me once more. "Please do not be offended if I say this, but I would suggest seeing a counselor about what has happened to you. It's better to talk about it than to bury it."

I gave him a soft nod, and he turned to walk the rest of the way down the sidewalk, getting into his car and leaving. I sighed softly, going into my house and locking the door. As I walked up the stairs to my bedroom, I felt increasingly uncomfortable. Something just didn't seem right as I walked in my home. I looked in my bedroom, seeing that it was still a mess from the night before and the police searching for more evidence against Buquet. I looked at my calendar that was besides my door, and I let out a frustrated groan, putting my hands on my head. 'Beauty and the Beast' was two weeks away, right around the same time that the trial would be starting, if there was going to be a trial. Feeling restless, and wanting to get my mind off of everything, I went into my room, and began to clean up from the mess that was left from the night before.

It was midnight before I finally stopped cleaning, leaning against my bed, looking around. I had rearranged every piece of furniture, dusted everything, and had clean sheets upon my bed. I looked around my room, seeing pictures of Drake and I. I began to wonder what was going to happen to us. He said that he needed some space. How much space did he need, and for how long? Would he end up leaving me in the end? I let out a low sigh, getting up and going into my bathroom, running the water for a shower. I undressed and stepped in, letting the water run over me. In my head, I went over Belle's lines has I cleansed myself, skipping over the songs as I spoke my lines softly. After a while, I stepped out of the shower, drying and putting clean clothes on, coming back out to my bedroom. Looking around, I didn't want to be in there. I pulled on some socks, shoes, and a hoodie, venturing outside from my bedroom window. I climbed down slowly and quietly, using the gutters and siding of the house. Once I placed my feet on the ground, I pulled my hood up and looked around, seeing that my parents still weren't home. I shrugged it off, and started to walk around the area. The night air was crisp and cool; spring was definitely in the air. I walked for what seemed like forever, taking it all in. I listened to the sounds of the night, closing my eyes and stopping but for a moment. Then, something else began to fill the air. The soft sound of a piano began to flood the air. The keys were being played with such grace, moving softly, and yet furiously at the same time. I opened my eyes, and I began to follow the sound. As the sound grew and grew within the night air, I found myself in front of Monsieur Destler's house. I stopped moving, listening to the sounds once again. I moved quietly around his house, looking in the windows on the first floor. The house was dark, not a soul in sight. But the music…there was music, I was sure of it. I looked at the ground, seeing some light coming from behind the house. I walked in that direction, stepping lightly, finding the source of the light. It was coming from the basement. There was a small window in which the light was shining from. I slowly bent down, peering in the window.

I had never seen the basement of Monsieur Destler's home; only the first floor and even that was for a brief moment. From what I could see through the window, his basement was beautifully decorated in rich colors of red and gold. Manuscript paper lay all over the place, along with some paintings that I had never seen before. There, in the center of it all was a luscious black grand piano, baring the symbol of Steinway. There, sitting amongst it all, playing the piano was Monsieur Destler. I watched as he moved his fingers over the ivory, this strange feeling beginning to swell within my heart, the music flooding my ears as I closed my eyes, listening to the piece that he was playing. It was unlike anything that I had heard before. Suddenly he stopped playing. I froze in my place, afraid that he had seen me. I opened my eyes, watching him. He had grabbed a pencil that he had placed beside him, scribbling down some notes for the next few bars. My eyes widened, looking at the notes he had written. I had no idea that he composed music of his own. He stopped writing, and began to play again. I listened to the melody, the music flooding my ears once again. This time, I began to hum softly along with the notes as I lay on the cool grass. It wasn't long after I started humming that the playing stopped once again, this time followed by the piano bench scooting away from the piano. I bolted upright, breaking off into a dead run back to my house. I knew that he had to have seen me, but I didn't care. His music filled my heart with joy and it made me want to soar. I stopped once I got back to my house, leaning up against the siding of the garage, breathing heavily. I couldn't get the music out of my head. It was plaguing me, and I wanted to hear more. I climbed back up the drain pipe and moved across the roof, going back into my room, shutting my window. I sat down on my bed, slipping my shoes off. I began to wonder, why didn't Monsieur Destler tell any of us that he composed music, as well as taught it? Mainly, why didn't he tell me? I pulled the blankets back, still thinking about the music that I had heard. As I moved to get under the sheets of my bed, images of Christine and the Phantom began to make its way into my mind. I wondered how Christine felt singing the Phantom's music. Did she feel the same way that I was feeling? My eyes grew heavy, and I closed them, breathing deeply as I began to drift away from the world that I knew, drifting back into the sea of slumber that I needed greatly.


	15. Twisted Every Way

I slowly opened my eyes, looking around my bedroom. It was just before noon, and from the noises outside my room, there seemed to be pandemonium about an opera's score. I slowly sat up, rubbing my eyes just as there was a knock on my door.

"Christine, darling," said an all too familiar voice. "Are you awake? We have to meet with Andre and Firmin."

I smiled softly, getting up out of my bed and pulling my robe on, opening the door just enough to sneak a quick kiss to Raoul. "I just woke up," I replied softly. "Give me a few minutes to get dressed, and I'll meet you at the office."

"Please, hurry. They are getting impatient as it is."

I nodded again, shutting the door and quickly dressing in a beautiful blue gown, grabbing the score for Don Juan, before I ventured out of my room. I walked calmly to the office of Andre and Firmin, seeing Raoul there, waiting outside the door just as he said he would be. He gave me another sweet kiss, stroking my cheek softly as he did so.

"Raoul," I said softly, leaning my head slightly into his touch. "Aren't we already late as it is?"

"Yes, darling, we are," he said with a small smile, opening the door to the office, escorting me inside. Inside the office were not only Andre and Firmin, but Madame Giry, Carlotta, and Piangi. I looked at Raoul curiously, wondering what was happening.

"Ah, look, it's our little star," Carlotta declared, standing beside Piangi with her hands on her hips. "It's about time that you got here. We have been waiting over two hours for you."

Raoul gave her a smug look while he set me in a chair, moving around to stand where everyone could see him.

_We have all been blind, and yet the answer is staring us in the face. This could be the chance to ensnare our clever friend._

Andre and Firmin looked at each other, and then back at Raoul.  _We're listening! Go on!_

_We shall play his game, perform his work but remember we hold the ace. For if Miss Daae sings, he is certain to attend._

I looked at them all, feeling like a piece of meat that was just being used to trap the Phantom so the police could capture him. Just then, Andre and Firmin shook their hands with Raoul and declared that the doors would be barred; the police would be there and armed.

_The curtain will fall, and his reign will end_ , all three of them declared as I stood up from my chair. Everyone turned to look at me, waiting for me to say something.

"I can't. I won't do it," I said simply, holding the score in my hands.

"Then I will take her part," Carlotta said simply and defiantly, yanking the score from my hands.

"Christine, you have to do it," Raoul said simply, taking the score back from Carlotta and handing it back to me. "We need you."

"Don't you see that this is madness," Madame Giry finally injected, angry and frustrated that they were not only trying to contest the Phantom, but capture him as well. "He is cleverer than you think!"

"Then help us! Instead of warning us, help us!"

"Monsieur, I can't!"

Just then, arguments began to emerge from everywhere in the room. Carlotta and Piangi ganged up on me, while Raoul and Madame Giry were arguing along with Andre and Firmin. The arguing sounded like an orchestra that couldn't blend together to make a simple melody. Between Carlotta and Piangi yelling at me in both English and Italian, I couldn't get a word in edgewise. The voices continued to rise from everyone, each of them becoming more shrill and frustrated with each passing moment. I put my hands to my ears, letting out a loud frustrated scream of a single word.

"Enough!"

Raoul turned around, along with Andre, Firmin, and Madame Giry. I pushed through Carlotta and Piangi and latched myself onto Raoul, tears streaming down my face. He moved me down to the chair that I was previously sitting in as I began to plead with him, clutching on the lapels of his jacket.

_Raoul, I'm frightened! Don't make me do this! It scares me…don't put me through this ordeal by fire. He'll take me! I know! We'll be parted forever! He won't let me go!_

_What I once used to dream I now dread. If he finds me it won't ever end, and he'll always be there singing songs in my head. He'll always be there singing songs in my head…_

I let out a fearful sob as Raoul wiped my tears away. Everyone had their eyes on me, but Carlotta was the only one to speak what everyone else, with the exception of Madame Giry was thinking.

"She's mad."

Raoul looked at me comfortingly, stroking my cheek with his hand, and continuing to wipe my tears away as he spoke next. "You said yourself he was nothing but a man. Yet while he lives, he will haunt us till we're dead…"

I let out a shaky breath, looking at the score once again, and teardrops falling upon it, smearing the ink.  _Twisted every way, what answer can I give? Am I to risk my life to win the chance to live? Can I betray the man who once inspired my voice? Do I become his prey? Do I have any choice? He kills without a thought; he murders all that's good! I know I can't refuse, and yet, I wish I could. Oh, God, if I agree what horrors wait for me in this, the Phantom's opera?_

Raoul continued to comfort me, Andre and Firmin coming over to me, standing behind the chair. Raoul leaned in close, kissing my cheek softly.  _Christine, Christine, don't think that I don't care. But every hope and every prayer rests on you now…_

The next sound that flooded my ears was Andre and Firmin, begging me to stay in the part. Carlotta and Piangi began to join in as well, while Madame Giry was trying to get me away from all of them. I finally stood up, and ran out of the office, sobbing.

"I can't!"

The last thing that I heard was Raoul shouting in the office, declaring war upon the Phantom and his actions upon the opera house. I ran back to my room, continuing to sob as I slammed my door, throwing myself upon the bed. I laid there for a while. No more than an hour later, Madame Giry came into my room, shutting the door softly behind her. She came over to my bed, sitting upon it, stroking my hair softly. She was comforting me, just as she would with Meg, her own daughter. I let out a low sniffle, not bringing my head up to look at her.

"I do blame you for being upset, Christine," she spoke softly, still stroking my hair, moving her hands to fix it. "I imagine that you're feeling very conflicted right now."

"You have no idea," I replied, muffled into the pillow, letting her fix my hair as she wanted. "I just do not know what to do, Madame Giry. I can't betray him, but I want the part."

"You just need some time to think. Rehearsals will begin in a couple of days," she said as she pulled me up, cleaning my face with a damp cloth and applying just a touch of make-up to my face. "Go reflect on your choices. You're a star, and I have faith in you. Yes, there is the chance of danger, but we have had more brushes with danger in this opera house than you know."

"He wants me to return to him. I do not know if I can."

"Ultimately, the choice is yours, Christine," she said, handing me my cloak. "I think it would help if you went to the cemetery, visit your father's grave."

I looked up at her, my eyes wide. "But…we're not allowed to leave the grounds."

Madame Giry gave me a kind smile, helping me to stand as I put my cloak. "I won't tell a soul. And technically, you only need my permission to go out, and I'm giving it to you."

"Thank you, Madame," I said softly, giving her a hug. She embraced me, and pulled the hood of my cloak on my head.

"Take the back stairs. No one will see you then."

I nodded, leaving my room and shutting the door quietly. I moved quickly down the back stairs of the opera house, pushing past doormen and stage hands as my feet began to fly, heading out of the stage door. As I made my way out to the street, it had begun to snow. The ground and sidewalks were already covered, so it was pretty to see the city of Paris glistening from what little daylight there was left. I looked around, spotting a carriage across the street from the opera house. I looked around, and then trotted lightly across the street. The driver was sitting in his seat, still and quiet. It seemed like he didn't even notice I was there. The hood of his cloak was up, sheltering his face and head from the falling snow.

"Excuse me, are you waiting for someone," I asked quietly before I could get into the carriage.

"No, mademoiselle, I am waiting for no one."

I handed him a satchel of a few gold coins. "Would you take me to the cemetery, please," I asked, still holding the satchel in my hand, waiting for him to take it. He looked at me for a brief moment, then the satchel before he spoke again.

"Keep your money, mademoiselle, and just get into the carriage."

"But, sir, I –"

"Either you get in now, or I leave you here," he said in a demanding tone. Not saying anything more, I quickly climbed back into the carriage, sliding my satchel back into my pocket. The carriage began to move with a quick jerk, heading outside of the city towards the city. Has we moved, I thought about my father, and what he would think about what was happening to me now. I knew that he would be happy that I had found a good man like Raoul. But what of my teacher, my Angel, my Phantom? Would he be happy that I was receiving voice lessons from this amazing man with such amazing talent? Or would he be disappointed because of the choices that I had made? I felt the carriage come to a halt, and I moved to get out of the carriage. I stepped down slowly, making sure that my dress and cloak didn't get snagged on the carriage steps. Before I started to walk into the cemetery, I turned and looked at my driver.

"Thank you for bringing me here. Please, accept my payment," I said softly, reaching into my pocket for my satchel again. Suddenly, the driver cracked the reigns of the horses and the carriage began to pull away. I stepped back, watching it go. I turned again, and began walking into the yard of the cemetery. I slowly ran my hand along some of the statues of bells and angels, thinking about how these objects were now my father's eternal companions. I wished that I could speak with him, hold him against me, and listen to his violin playing in the soft winter air.  _Wishing you were somehow here again…_

I moved about the cemetery before I finally reached my father's tomb, tears flooding my eyes. I wrapped my cloak around my body, moving closer to it. Something came over me, and I opened my mouth to whisper prayers to bless my father's soul. Instead, grief overtook the blessings that I had to wish to pass on and I sang for the first time, alone, in the empty cemetery.  _Too many years fighting back tears…why can't the past just die! Wishing you were somehow here again…know we must say goodbye. Try to forgive, teach me to live! Give me the strength to try! No more memories, no more silent tears. No more gazing across the wasted years…help me say goodbye. Help me say goodbye!_  I sobbed quietly, falling to the snow covered ground in front of his tomb, my eyes covered by my arm. As I cried, a small sound filled the air. The sound of a violin, playing close by, its melody gracing the cold winter air. Then, a voice followed the lead of the violin's melody, singing softly, just loud enough for me to hear.

_Wandering Child, so lost, so helpless, yearning for my guidance…_

I blinked, slowly raising my head to look above. There he was, the Phantom, standing above me, playing the violin and watching me as I brought myself up from the ground.

_Angel or Father, Friend of Phantom? Who is it there staring?_

_Have you forgotten your Angel?_

_Angel, oh speak, what endless longings echo in this whisper?_

_Too long you've wandered in winter, far from my fathering gaze._

_Wildly my mind beats against you…_

_You resist…_

_Yet the soul obeys!_

_Angel of Music, I/you denied me! Turning from true beauty! Angel of Music, my protector (do not shun me)! Come to me strange Angel!_

Again, I was under his spell. I began to walk up the stairs towards him again, as he sang to me, beckoning to me with his hands.  _I am your Angel of Music…Come to me, Angel of Music…_

There were rapid hoof beats in the distance, and someone yelling 'Christine!' but I didn't care. I reached my hands up to my teacher, aching to touch him once more. The hoof beats came to a stop, and the yells became clearer. I turned my head and saw Raoul, demounting his horse, running towards me.

"Christine, stop! It's a trap! That man, that thing, is not your father!"

I ran to Raoul, wrapping my arms around him and kissing him.

"Bravo, monsieur!" yelled the Phantom, tossing the violin down to the ground, smashing it into pieces before he jumped down from the roof. "Such spirited words! Come; let's see how far you can go now!"

There was a spark of flame as we turned to head for our horse, blocking us in. Raoul shielded me from the flames, and I started to move back towards the Phantom. "You cannot win her love by making her your prisoner!"

"I'm here, monsieur! The angel of death! Do you dare to face me?"

"Stop it! Enough!" I yelled, running away from both of them. Raoul ran after me, getting on his horse to stop me.

"Get on. I'm taking you back to the opera house."

When I nodded, he took my hand and helped me up, and we raced back to the opera house before night fell. He helped me inside and left me in my room alone. I sat on the bed, feeling so foolish for having listened to Madame Giry. I should have sensed that it was a trap, but I didn't want to believe it. I looked at my mirror, wondering what he was doing now. Was he planning to kill me? Was he planning to kill Raoul? I didn't want to think about what could happen, and what was going to happen when Don Juan premiered in two weeks. I sighed heavily, holding my head in my hands. My heart was torn between the two. I changed out of my dress and cloak, putting my nightgown and robe on, lying down for a restless night of sleep. The only thing that never left my mind was the image of the Phantom, plotting the next step of his formulated plan.


	16. Stress and Dress Rehearsal

I was so happy that the weekend had come; especially after Buquet's arrest and knowing that he was still sitting in jail, since no one had posted his bail yet that I was aware of. I was sure that I was going to spend the weekend relaxing and preparing myself for the show. My parents were gone again, out on a weekend getaway somewhere that was a considerable distance away from me. Drake was still taking his space from me; he hadn't been taking my phone calls, texts, or emails. Needless to say, I was pretty sure that our relationship was over, even though he didn't say it was. Early in the Friday evening, ADA Nolan came by the house to update me on how the case was going. I had just made dinner for myself, so I offered him a glass of lemonade while I began to eat my salad.

"Well, did he take the deal that you offered him," I asked ADA Nolan, sitting at the breakfast island with him across from me.

"Unfortunately, he did not, Miss Day," he replied, sipping at his lemonade. I know that he could see the disappointment on my face. I let out a heavy sigh, pushing my salad away.

"So what happens now?"

"Well, the trial will begin on Monday. That will be opening arguments and we will open with our witnesses on Tuesday. You're our main witness, so you will have to be there."

"You couldn't get Chrissy to come forward?"

"No. She said that the sex was consensual, and she is eighteen, so there's really nothing that we can do about it."

"But still, he could lose his job if the school board found out about that, right?"

"Yes, that's correct, but that has to go through the legalities of the state as well."

I nodded softly. "Who are your other witnesses?"

"We have the detectives on your case, the doctor who examined you, and a couple of character witnesses. Character witnesses are people that you are closest to."

"Monsieur Destler and Drake, right?"

He nodded. "We also have the teacher who is your school's computer administrator, since you mentioned the fake email that Mr. Buquet had."

"Okay. What about Buquet's witnesses? Who are they?"

"Well, Buquet will testify in order to tell his side of events. His lawyer will question you and the other witnesses. I found out today that Chrissy has agreed to testify on his behalf, and a few character witnesses of his own."

"Do you have any idea what they could say in order to defend him?"

"I'll be honest with you, Miss Day. They are probably going to attack your statement that you gave to the police, and you did get into a fight with Chrissy, so your emotional credibility is going to be called into question. Just remember to be honest and stay calm when you're being questioned. Now, I have to ask you again. Has there been anything else going on between the people that you're closest to?"

"Drake and I have never had sex. And Monsieur Destler is my teacher. The only thing that he has done to me was kiss me on the hand, which he does with other girls in our class because he is French after all."

He nodded, standing up. "There is one more thing."

"What is it?"

"Buquet's bail was posted last night, so he's no longer in jail."

I cringed as he spoke those words, wrapping the salad up and putting it in the fridge. I had suddenly lost my appetite. "So what do I do now?"

"Is there anyone you can stay with? A friend or another family member would be appropriate. I know your close with Mr. Destler, but I don't feel that is best since Mr. Buquet is out of jail. He could get something really strong that he could you against you."

I nodded softly. "Can I get an order of protection, like where he can't come within so many feet of me?"

He nodded. "I'll call in a favor. We'll make it to where he can't come within five hundred feet of you, your home, and the school. Is that okay?"

"Sounds good to me, Mr. Nolan."

He nodded, coming over and patting me on the shoulder. "It's going to be okay, Sophia. I promise."

I just nodded, and with that, he left. As soon as he drove away, I went around the house, locking every single door and window that was in my house. I felt a little better that I had an order of protection in the works against Buquet, but as I walked around my empty house, the more my skin began to crawl at the thought that I was being watched. As time passed, I became more and more restless within my own house, but I was afraid to leave because I was sure that Buquet was watching the house. After some time of watching mindless television, practicing my songs and lines for Beauty and the Beast, and cleaning up the dishes that I had used, I headed upstairs to my bedroom. When I got up stairs, I could hear every inch of the house creaking as I stepped. I looked out the windows, seeing nothing unfamiliar as I went into my room. I got ready for bed as normal, brushing through my long, brown curls as I looked at myself in the mirror. I looked at the reflection staring back at me. It looked like me, sounded like me, but was it really me? I didn't feel like myself. I put my head down on my vanity, my mind traveling to Christine again. I began to wonder if she ever saw the Phantom again before the premier of Don Juan. I sighed heavily, rubbing my eyes, looking at my bedroom again. I grabbed my hoodie and opened the window, climbing back down to the ground, pulling my hood as I began to walk.

I took a different path tonight, walking through the park and moving my hands across the dew covered playground equipment. The houses nearby had their windows open, letting in the fresh spring air into their homes. There was something about the spring that gave people the feeling of renewal and giving them a fresh start. I wished how the same would be for me. I sat down on a swing, slowly moving back and forth as my mind began to wander. How was Drake feeling about all of this? He was going to be called to testify before a jury and more than likely a courtroom full of people to talk about me and our relationship. We were on the outs right now; what could he say? Better yet, what was he going to say about me? I pumped my legs slowly and the swing began to move back and forth just a bit more, thinking about what ADA Nolan said about getting counseling for what had happened to me. My mind traveled back to Monsieur Destler, and what he could possibly say in court. What if they ask him about our relationship, if we had one? What if he was asked if he had ever kissed me or touched me? I had been pretty adamant telling ADA Nolan that there wasn't anything going on between Monsieur Destler and I. What if this came out in court and ADA Nolan became angry at me for not telling him the truth?

I let out a heavy sigh, pushing my feet to the ground to come to a stop on the swing, lowering my head even more. What was I going to do? I wasn't eighteen yet, but ADA Nolan did have a right to know that Monsieur Destler and I kissed. But then again…that was my business. Couldn't I just try and keep it private? I sighed again, looking up at the night sky. There was no moon; only the brightly, shining stars. I closed my eyes, listening to the sounds of the night once again as I had before. Only a few moments later, I heard the piano playing in the distance. I opened my eyes and stood up out of the swing, walking through the rest of the park. As I walked, I listened to the quiet melody of the piano, humming along to its melody once again. Monsieur Destler had a great talent for music, more than I realized from before. As I walked, I found myself back at his house, and I could hear him continuing to play the keys of the piano. I sat along the side of his house, along with wall with my back against it where he couldn't see me. I listened intently as the melody began to fill my head once more, flooding my mind as I let myself go. I hummed quietly to the notes he had written, stopping whenever he stopped, and continuing whenever he resumed. I stayed there for about an hour before I finally heard him stop and shut the lid on the piano. I stood up and slowly walked back to my house, noticing the dead calm of the night. I climbed back up the siding of my house and walked across the roof, climbing back into my room easily. Tomorrow was Saturday; I had to meet with Monsieur Destler for another day of reporting on the people from the Paris Opera House. I got on my laptop to check my email before I went to bed. I had ten new messages. The first one I opened was from Monsieur Destler.

_Dear Cast/Crew,_

_Please do not forget that our costume fittings for the musical are tomorrow morning at 9amat the auditorium, with our first dress rehearsal to follow. Please make arrangements to be there. This is the only day the seamstress has to make sure our costumes fit and make adjustments as needed. We open a week from tonight._

_M. Destler_

I breathed a sigh of relief, happy that I wouldn't have to worry about writing another report about someone from the past. I began to open the other emails. They were from addresses that I didn't recognize. I opened the first one, my eyes watering as I skimmed over the words.

_You are a dirty slut! You do not deserve to be the lead!_

I deleted the email, moving onto the next, but they were all the same.

_How many times did you have to sleep with Destler to get Belle?_

_You're a liar!_

_You don't deserve to live. I hope you burn in hell!_

_Who knew that someone we thought was pure could be such a whore?_

_You know that everyone just hates your guts for what you're doing to Buquet. Why not end it all?_

I screamed, shutting my laptop to get away from all of the emails, backing away from my desk, my hands in my hair as tears streamed down my face. I lay on the bed, crying throughout the rest of the night. Not even Monsieur Destler's beautiful music that was in my head could sooth me after the slanderous emails that I had just read.

I don't know what time I finally fell asleep, but the next thing that woke me up was my cell phone ringing. I sat up, reaching for it from my bed side table. I answered it with a sleepy 'hello,' which was followed by a yawn. The reply was one that I was not expecting. The voice on the other side of the line was angry, frustrated, stressed, and it was probably because of me.

"DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT TIME IT IS? WHERE ARE YOU?"

The voice was Monsieur Destler's, and he was livid. The shouting voice woke me up even more, and I whipped my head around to my alarm clock, which I didn't set the night before. The time read 9:30am. I didn't hesitate after that. I sprang from my bed, grabbing my purse and book for the musical, running down the stairs at a frantic pace. I was still in the clothes that I was wearing the day before, not bothering to change or even put any make-up on to hide the evidence of tears from my blotchy, red face.

"I'm on my way," I said into the phone, as I ran out of my house, taking off into a dead run to the school. It was raining, but I didn't care. I had to get to the school. "Monsieur Destler, I am so –"

"Stop! Do not make any more excuses! Just get here!"

With that the line went dead, and I flipped my phone closed, stuffing into my pocket as I continued to run. The rain was pouring over me, soaking my hair and the majority of my hoodie. I dashed across the street, only a few blocks from the school now. I continued to run, gripping onto my book and my purse as I turned the corner. Monsieur Destler was going to kill me! And if my day couldn't get any worse, the emails were still plaguing my mind. I had to make a note to myself to call ADA Nolan and let him know about this. As began to run up the courtyard to the school, someone was there opening the door for me, yelling down the hallway 'she's here!' As I dashed inside, someone grabbed hold of my arm and pulling me close. I was staring into the face of an angry Monsieur Destler, as the person who held the door open for me ran back to the auditorium. As I tried to back away, he pulled me even closer, talking harshly and quietly so I would listen to him more.

"Would you like to explain to me how you think you can get away with being late for your costume fittings and our first dress rehearsal?"

"I-I'm sorry. I was up late the night before and –"

"Shut up. You are inches away from losing this part, do you understand me? And I can't put Chrissy on after what you did to her face. Either straighten up and be here when you are supposed to be here, or get out of my production."

With that last remark, he let me go, heading back to the auditorium. I sighed heavily, pulling my rain soaked hoodie off as I walked down to auditorium. I walked down the aisle, catching a glimpse of Chrissy and the damage that I had done. She had cuts on her cheeks and a black eye. I needed to make amends, even if she was testifying for Buquet. I put my things down, walking over to her and her clique, clearing my throat.

"Chrissy, can I talk to you," I asked softly, looking up at her, my eyes apologetic.

"Say what you need to say and go. I shouldn't even be speaking with you."

I nodded. "I understand. Christine, I am so, so sorry for hitting you. It wasn't like me, and I didn't mean any harm. I am sorry that I hurt you." I took a breath, feeling a little better. "There. I have said what I needed to say." I turned, beginning to walk away from her.

"You know you're going to lose, right?"

I stopped, not turning to look at her, know what she was talking about.

"Face it, Sophia, your case is screwed, and you were only trying to apologize to me to try and change my mind with testifying for Mr. Buquet. Well, it didn't work."

I turned slowly to face her. I could feel everyone's eyes on me, including Drake's and Monsieur Destler's. "I don't care if it worked or not. That's not was I was trying to do. I apologized, and I wanted to do nothing more than that. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a few costumes to try on." I turned on my heel and walked backstage to the girls' dressing room, seeing my dresses laid out for me.

"There you are," Annie, the seamstress, said in an excited huff. I loved Annie. She was an amazing dress maker and costume designer. She was an older woman, probably in her fifties, with short graying hair and a stout build. She ran over and pulled me over by both of my hands, pulling me further into the room. "I have been waiting for you all morning! Everyone else has their costumes fitted except for you and Jay, but we're working on his make-up for the Beast also. Come on, come on! We got to get you into your gowns."

"Yes, Annie. I am so sorry that I was late. I'm going through some things right now and –"

"Oh, honey, I know about it. That horrible man! I didn't trust him one bit when he got that job," she told me as she tore off my clothes so I could put the blue dress on. "If there's any consolation, I am on your side. I believe you, no matter what."

I smiled, happy to know that someone was on my side. "Thanks, Annie," I said as she helped me pull the dress on. "I really needed that."

She zipped me up, patting me on my back. "If you need anything, you'll let me know, won't you?"

I nodded, going to go look in the mirror, seeing myself in Belle's blue dress for the first time. "Oh, wow…"

"You look beautiful," she said, moving my hair out of the way. "I can't wait to see you in the yellow ball gown. We'll save that one for last; we have to put a hoop on with that one."

I smiled, glancing over at the yellow gown briefly before she unzipped the blue dress and handed me the pink one. "The blue one fits just right," I said as she helped me slip it off.

She nodded in agreement. "This is the pink dress that you will be wearing for 'Something There' and 'Human Again.' This is also the quick change dress, so we'll make sure that we have a curtain set up for you backstage. I believe that you'll also have a couple more quick changes, from the yellow to blue, and back to the yellow from the blue for the finale and the curtain call."

"Yeah, that sounds about right," I said, pulling the pink dress on. As I pulled the sleeves up to my shoulders, it reminded me of Christine's dress that she wore to the masquerade ball. Annie zipped up the back of the dress, having me stand on a small stool and look at the mirror. She glanced at the skirt, then back at me.

"Do you have your character shoes with you?"

"Ah, yeah, I do. They are out in the auditorium with my purse and hoodie."

"Go get them and slip them on. We might have to hem up the skirt a little more because it looks too long on you right now."

"You want me to go out there like this?"

"Well, yes. Everyone else did, so you might as well have some fun with it too."

I looked down at the pink dress, then back at the yellow ball gown, a small smile creeping across my lips. "Then why don't we go all out and put the ball gown on?"

Annie laughed and went over, getting the hoop first. "You need to take that off, so I can get this hoop on you."

I laughed, unzipping the dress and sliding it off, placing it neatly on a hanger and hanging it beside the mirror. She took the hoop, having me step into it and bringing it up to my waist, tying a strong bow in the ribbon to hold it up. Next, she went and picked up the yellow ball gown making sure it was unzipped before she pulled it over my head and my arms. She helped the skirt of the gown cascade down the hoop, and zipped up the back while I held my hair up for her to see the zipper. When my gown was zipped, I slowly let my hair down, looking in the mirror. I was positively speechless. I didn't know what to say. Annie stood there, tears in her eyes as she stared at me in the Belle ball gown. I turned and looked her, my face alarmed at the glistening I saw in her eyes and her hand over her mouth. "Annie, what's the matter? Did I rip it? Does it not look right on me? What can I do differently?"

"Sophia, you are the most beautiful Belle that has ever had this dress on. You've made me proud," she choked out, giving me a hug. I embraced her, beaming at the thought, ready to go show off the gown to the rest of the cast and crew.

"I'll be back," I said softly, holding the skirt up as I stepped down off of the stool, releasing it as I slowly walked out of the dressing room into the backstage area. There were a couple of people backstage, who all turned and looked at me, gasping and talking quietly as I continued to walk, blocking them out. I felt my bare feet on the stage floor, smiling brightly as I came further out into the auditorium, hearing more students gasping and hearing, 'Wow!', 'She looks amazing!', and 'She looks just like Belle!' I stepped out onto the stage, where some of the ensemble clapped their hands, cheered and wolf whistled. Drake, Jay, Monsieur Deslter, and Chrissy all turned around, their mouths opened, astonished by my presence in the ball gown. Jay gulped, his eyes wide as he looked up and down at me. I could sense his nervousness that he would be dancing and kissing me during the show. Drake looked at me, unsure of what to do. Chrissy huffed, turning her attention back to her clique. Monsieur Destler, however, did something I was not expecting. He put his score down and came up on stage slowly. The cast grew quiet, watching as I took a step back away from him, which he put his hand up to stop me. I stood still as he walked around me, taking in my features and the details of the gown on me. I looked straight ahead in order not to start any rumors about us. Then, I felt my hand being grabbed. Before I knew it, he was twirling me around in a circle, and he had just a small smile. Just one big enough that I could see, and I gulped, afraid of being yelled at for being out in the auditorium with my costume on.

"Now, this," he said, loudly so everyone could hear, even the people backstage. "This is the Sophia Day that we know. The girl with a smile on her face, and a song in her heart."

I blushed softly, stepping back from him. "I just forgot my character shoes," I said modestly, stepping down off of the stage and grabbing them from my purse, returning backstage. I smiled at the thought of me in this gown the dress rehearsal later, and I hummed the melody that was in my head. The only thing was that it wasn't anything from the musical. It was the melody of Monsieur Destler's that I had listened to for the last couple of nights. As I walked back into the dressing room, I hummed more and more, and no one asked what the song was. What I didn't know was that Monsieur Destler was following me, his arms over his chest and an eyebrow raised. He knew that I had been there. I shut the door to the dressing room, getting ready for the first scene of the dress rehearsal.


	17. Taking a Break & The Music of the Night

The first dress rehearsal went very smoothly, especially with my emotions running high between Drake and I. During the mob scene, I actually slapped him across the face, which was only supposed to be a stage slap. He was taken aback by it and he had to stop the scene to regain his composure. I ran up to him, apologizing, but he didn't want to hear it, and we continued the rehearsal. Monsieur Destler's comment about me was still in my mind. It made me feel better that someone still saw me for me and not as the slut as everyone thought I had turned into. I changed back into my normal clothes, seeing Drake coming out of the boys' dressing room. I ran up to him, grabbing ahold of his arm.

"Hey, I need to talk to you," I said as he stopped, shrugging his arm away from me. I put my hand down at my side, holding onto my purse and my hoodie. "I'm really sorry for the way that I've been acting. The trial is coming up and I'm worried about that, I'm worried about the show, and –"

"I think we need to take a break."

I blinked, looking at him. "A…a break? As in, you're breaking up with me."

"Just until this drama is over. I can't take it, Sophia. Your life is too dramatic right now between the trial that you have coming up, this musical, and everything else that you've done in the last couple of days."

I lowered my head, not looking at him. "I…I understand."

"You know, you can get as angry at me as you want right now. No one else is here. Don't hold it in, Sophia. It's not good for you," he said softly, placing his hands on my arms. I stepped back, clutching my purse.

"I can't be mad at you, Drake. I understand why you're doing this."

"I'll be there for you during the trial. I'm on your side; you know that."

"I know," I said, and I turned on my heel, leaving the auditorium, walking back to my house, taking my things back there, calling ADA Nolan. He answered right away, just as I relocked my house and began walking again. "Mr. Nolan, its Sophia Day. I hope I'm not bothering you."

"No, not at all, Sophia. What can I do for you?"

"I have some emails on my laptop, and I don't know who they're from, but…let's just say that they're not pretty."

"What do they say?"

"Um, pretty much that I'm a liar, slut, and whore, so on and so forth."

"All right, well, I'll call a tech person to come over and look at your laptop tomorrow, okay? We can use them as evidence against Buquet, if they were sent by him or any of their witnesses."

"Thank you, Mr. Nolan. I really appreciate it."

"Get some rest. I'll be by with the tech person tomorrow, okay?"

"Okay, Mr. Nolan. Thank you," and with that I hung up my phone. I had walked to the park again, but I didn't stop there. I kept walking, my tennis shoes splashing in the small puddles that were on the sidewalk. There was a low rumble of thunder in the distance; another storm was coming. It wasn't long before I found myself at Monsieur Destler's house again, hearing the music coming from the house once again. I noticed that it was louder than before, but I didn't care. The melody was intoxicating. I sat down in the same spot where I was before, away from the light and out of sight of any one that would pass by his house. I began to hum the melody again, closing my eyes and resting my head against the siding of his house. Soon, I grew tired of humming and I began to vocalize softly, following the same notes that I had heard before. Suddenly, as I vocalized a high note, I felt a hand wrap around my throat and I let out a gasp, which caused the grip to only become tighter, but not tight enough to choke me.

"So, it was you that I heard two nights ago," the voice said in a whisper, running his thumb along the soft skin of my neck. I shuddered softly. I was in trouble now; he had caught me and I was going to lose the part of Belle for sure. My eyes were still closed as he spoke again. "You know, I thought that I was just imagining things when I heard the humming a few nights ago. I even came outside to look around and there was no one here. But today…today when I heard you humming on the way back to the dressing room, I knew it was you. This is my private home, Miss Day, and you are trying my patience with knowing that I write my own music. I want to know why you are spying on me, and I want you to tell me right now." He slowly took his hand away from my throat, and I breathed slowly, turning my head to look into his eyes as he crouched to the ground, looking down at me. "Why, Sophia?"

"I am so sorry," I began, looking away from him as I spoke. "I didn't mean to spy on you. It happened completely by accident. I was walking and I heard you playing, and I watched you. It was only meant for a moment, but I saw that you were composing and I just…" I took a breath, letting it out slowly. I was rambling; I needed to regain my thoughts. I still couldn't bear to look at him. Just as I was about to speak again, I felt the tips of his middle and index finger, lifting my chin to look at him. I saw his deep, blue eyes. They were soft, gentle, and understanding; he just wanted an answer.

"You just what, Sophia," he asked in a soft whisper, still holding my head to look up at him.

"When I saw that you were playing the music that you had written in your own hand, I had to listen to it. And Monsieur Destler, it was beautiful. I haven't been able to get it out of my head since I first listened to it. The first night I listened to it, after I had went back to my house, it was in my mind and it lulled me to sleep. Your music…" I stood up on my knees, facing him, my hands moving over my chest. "Your music filled my soul with a strange, sweet sound. With your music, I felt like my soul just wanted to soar. I heard music as I'd never heard before." I moved again, this time standing on my feet, which was followed by Monsieur Destler standing up fully, looking down at me. "I'm sorry for imposing on you and your life. I'm going to go." I turned and took a step to walk away. Then, he grabbed my hand, and I froze in my place.

"Come with me," he said softly, pulling me closer to his house, more to the back door of his home, the door closest to his basement.

"No, I'd better not. He might get something that he can use against me in my case," I said softly. He touched my cheek with his soft fingers. I trembled at his touch, looking at him as he continued to pull me along into his home.

"Come with me, Sophia. Do not resist me," he spoke softly, leading me downstairs to his basement, closing the door once I was on the stairs. He took both of my hands, helping me walk down the stairs.

"Monsieur Destler, please…I really shouldn't be here."

He placed me next to the piano, his face close to mine. "Sophia…you were the first person who has ever heard my music. This is music that no one has ever heard before, and you heard it and you felt it inside of you," he said, placing his hand over my heart. "You felt it in here, in your soul. Now, I'm going to play the song that you heard, and I want you to sing what is in your heart."

"Do you have lyrics with your music," I asked softly as he moved to play the piano, sitting on the bench, my hand on its lid as I looked at him.

"No. That's where you come in. I want you to sing what's in your heart and show me how much this music has influenced your soul." He played the beginning chords of the piece, and I closed my eyes, listening intently for a good place to begin. I could feel the music and words flowing through me, and when he played the last chord, I took a breath, and sang.

_Nighttime sharpens, heightens each sensation_   
_Darkness stirs, and wakes imagination_   
_Silently the senses abandon their defenses…_

He played the interlude for that first part. I could feel him smiling. Then, he sang.

**Slowly, gently, night unfurls is splendor**   
**Grasp it; sense it, tremulous and tender**   
**Turn your face away from the garish light of day**   
**Turn your thoughts away from cold, unfeeling light**   
**And listen to the music of the night…**

Then, we both sang together, our voices entwining together as one.

_**Close your eyes and surrender to your darkest dreams** _   
_**Purge your thoughts of the life you knew before** _   
_**Close your eyes, let your spirit start to soar…** _   
_**And you'll live as you've never lived before…** _

I took the next part, moving him closer to him as he played.

_Softly, deftly, music shall caress you…_

He sang his reply, watching me as I watched him.

**Hear it, feel it, secretly possess you…**

Our duet resumed again as I moved behind him, placing my hands on his shoulders. The music had overtaken both of us, and we weren't letting it stop.

_**Open up your mind** _   
_**Let your fantasies unwind** _   
_**In the darkness which you know you cannot fight** _   
_**The darkness of the music of the night…** _

_**Let your mind start a journey to a strange new world** _   
_**Leave all thoughts of the life you knew before** _   
_**Let your soul take you were you long to be…** _

I had hit my highest note ever. I held it and its tone filled the room. Monsieur Destler stopped playing and singing as he turned around, slowly standing up from the piano bench and standing in front of me, watching me as I stopped, panting softly, my hand over my chest. He slowly reached for my hand that was over my chest, smiling as he took it and he sang the next part without the melody from the piano.

**Only then can you belong to me…**

I shuddered at the thought, and he pulled me close to him, whispering into my ear, "Sing to me, my Angel…"

I melted at his words, obeying his command of me, feeling his arms wrap around my small waist.

_Floating, falling, sweet intoxication…_

He sang the next line into my ear, softly and sweetly, running one of his hands through my hair.

**Touch me, trust me. Savor each sensation…**

I moved my hands to his face, gently caressing his scarred skin while he closed his eyes. Our voices melded together as one once more.

_**Let the dream begin** _   
_**Let your darker side give in** _   
_**To the power of the music that I write…** _   
_**The power of the music of the night…** _

He held my face in his hands, and pulled me in for a kiss so sweet and gentle that it took me back. I wrapped my arms around his neck and he lifted me off of the ground, kissing me again and again, his lips moving down to my neck. I noticed that my breathing became deeper and quicker with each passing kiss. Suddenly, just as quickly as he began, he stopped, his own breathing quick and hard, placing a gentle kiss on my forehead. I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath before I sang once more.

_You alone can make my song take flight…  
Help me make the music of the night…"_

We stood there together, frozen in time as to what had just happened. In my mind, I was seeing the Phantom and Christine, having sung together for the first time and him holding her just as he was holding me right now. In reality, we were Monsieur Destler and Sophia, the teacher and the student. Reality began to set it as Monsieur Destler slowly released me from his grasp, and I stepped back, putting both of my hands over my flushed cheeks.

"Oh, we shouldn't have done that," I dreaded, shaking my head, not looking at him. "We should not have done that. He probably heard. He probably saw…" I backed myself up against the wall, beginning to hyperventilate. Panic began to set in as Monsieur Destler stepped closer to me, slowly as not to startle me.

"What was wrong with it," he asked softly, reaching one hand out slowly to take mine down from my face. "It was beautiful. You shouldn't be ashamed of that, Sophia."

"No, he heard! I know he did! He'll say that we're in a relationship, and then he'll be free and he'll come after me," I yelled tearfully, putting a hand out in front of him to stop him from coming closer, but he continued to come to me, my hand pressing against his chest now as he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me close to his chest as I cried. He rubbed my back gently, comforting me as I cried.

"Sophie…my Sophie…I promise that no harm will come to you. Do you believe me?"

"What can you do," I asked, which was muffled into his chest. "If we tell the court about this, you will lose your job and Buquet will be free and we'll both be in danger."

"I swear to you that James Buquet will never bother you again. He will never come near you again, no matter what happens in this trial. Do you understand?"

I nodded softly, holding onto him as I cried. He held me, cradling me in his arms, kissing the top of my head every so often. After minutes of silence, he lifted my head, kissing my forehead softly, looking down into my eyes. "Monsieur…thank you for your music," I said softly, closing my eyes as he lightly touched my cheek.

"Did you enjoy it," he asked, kissing my cheek, moving his lips slowly along my jawline, leaving a trail of kisses in his wake.

"With every breath in my body," I replied with a soft smile as his fingers began to caress my skin in the softest man. I felt his smile creep across his lips while they were still on my cheek. I blushed softly.

"My sweet Sophie…"

"Mm, I better go," I said softly, pulling back. "We do have rehearsal tomorrow, or have you forgotten?"

He chuckled lightly, taking my hand and kissing it softly. "I haven't forgotten, my dear," he said in reply, slowly releasing me from his grasp. "Would you like me to walk you home? It is late, unless Drake is waiting for you."

I frowned slightly, stepping back from him slowly. "Drake isn't waiting for me. We…we're taking a break." I saw this light in Monsieur Destler's face and another smile, but he kept his distance.

"From what I have seen, and forgive me if I'm being too bold, but it seems like it has been over for a long time for you. Am I correct?"

I didn't look at him, thinking about what he had just said as I walked up the stairs from his basement. He was right. For me, even though I did love Drake dearly, we had been together for so long that I didn't love him as I thought I did. When I didn't speak, he came up behind me, placing his hands gently on my shoulders. He wrapped and arm around my waist, walking up the stairs with me while he waited for me to reply. I gathered my thoughts, opening the door to go outside.

"I believe that it was over after the rape. He told me that he needed some space. Even though I resisted him, I told him that I was doing it to save your job. He…didn't like that very much."

"Well, here we are, your two character witnesses and we despise one another," he said as we walked, his hands in his pockets. "Have you told him about us?"

"No. I haven't told anyone about us, not even ADA Nolan."

His head made a quick turn, stopping in his tracks. "Sophia, you have to tell him."

"I can't. I don't want you to lose your job."

He sighed softly, and continued to walk. I followed him. I sensed that there was something that he wasn't telling me. I placed my hand on his shoulder and he stopped again, turning to me. "I'm leaving after this year, Sophia."

I froze, moving my hands to my side. "You're…leaving? But how can you leave? You're the best music teacher that our high school has ever seen!"

"I believe that my work there is done, and I have nothing else to do there," he said as he turned a corner, walking down my street. I followed him, thinking about what he had just said. I was a senior, and I would be graduating this year. He was leaving this year. Then, I said something that I thought would be too bold.

"You're leaving because of me."

"I'm not going to confirm or deny that."

"So, I'm right. You're leaving because I'm leaving."

"I have my own reasons for leaving, Sophia."

"I'm not going to pry because those reasons might be personal, but I know that the main reason that you're leaving is because of me," I said as we came to my house. It was still dark, no signs of life inside whatsoever. My parents were still out of town. "Well, this is me," I said shyly, stopping at the end of the sidewalk.

"Are you sure? There isn't anyone home."

"Yeah, my parents are out of town. ADA Nolan will be by with a tech person to get some emails off of my laptop."

"What kind of emails?"

"Oh, you know…just some emails."

"Threatening?"

"Not exactly…"

"Sophia…tell me what the emails said."

I sighed. "Wait here," I said, going up to my house and unlocking the front door and shutting it behind me. I went upstairs, getting my laptop from my desk and taking it back outside to the porch. I waved at him to come up, opening it for him to the emails. I couldn't bear to look at him as he started to read. I listened to his breathing get heavier and I sensed more anger coming from him than I ever had before sensed before. He slammed my laptop shut, coming over to me, grabbing me and turning me to face him.

"You are not what they say you are, do you understand me? You are nothing like them, and you never will be. Do you understand?"

When I nodded, he kissed my forehead, and parting his way, walking down to the side walk. He turned to me, and smiled. "There's one more thing, Miss Day."

"Yes, Monsieur Destler?"

"I thought you looked gorgeous in the ball gown today," he said with a smile, leaving and walking back to his house. I went in my house with my laptop and locked the door once more. I walked up the stairs and headed to my bedroom, completely exhausted from the day. I quickly changed into my pajamas, our song still ringing through my head as I rested my head on my pillow. I smiled softly at the thought of us singing together, and the sexual feelings that we hardly resisted between us. As I drifted off into a restful night of sleep, I thought about Christine and the Phantom again, wondering how they thought these feelings between them, if there were any sort of feelings between them.


	18. Teaching Sensuality

I awoke with a fresh start for a new day, and another day filled with another rehearsal for the Phantom's opera,  _Don Juan Trimuphante_. I had a light breakfast with the ballet corps, and then went in for my costume fitting for my character of Aminta. Piangi was Don Juan, and even though he was losing weight just as the Phantom had suggested, he didn't seem comfortable with me in the part of Aminta. Just the same, I didn't feel comfortable with him as Don Juan. He was much older than me, and I felt very uncomfortable during our first song together,  _The Point of No Return_. When it came time for the rehearsal, I came out in my costume to see Raoul, Firmin and Andre all sitting in the front row to watch the rehearsal to see how it was coming along. Monsieur Reyer was there, conducting the music and directing the opera, just as he always had before, but I could sense the stress coming off of him, as well as the fear that we weren't performing the opera to the Phantom's liking. Rehearsal began with the corps and Carlotta singing the first song, then Don Juan's entrance with Passerino. I came and sang the beginning part, dreading for  _The Point of No Return_. I just didn't feel comfortable acting this out with Piangi, but I didn't dare tell anyone for I didn't want to stir up any more drama between Carlotta and I. However, my shyness and timidity showed when Piangi ran his hands down my side during his chorus and I shot up from the bench, knocking Piangi over and the bench falling on top of him. He began cursing at me in Italian as the others began to help him up as I ran my fingers into my hair, sighing.

"Oh, this is getting ridiculous," Reyer shouted as he threw his baton down on his stand, his hands on his hips, glaring at me. "You have to be more welcoming of his advances, Miss Daae! You have to perform advances of your own! How many times must we go through this?"

"I'm sorry, Monsieur Reyer. I'm trying my best."

"You're not trying enough, Miss Daae! We open with this opera in two nights, and you are nowhere near ready!"

I lowered my head, looking sheepishly at my hands just as Piangi said, "I cannot work with that girl! She is mad, just as La Carlotta said!"

"She's just shy, Signor Piangi," Raoul said as he came up the stage, defending me as he came over and kissed my forehead. "I'm sure that Carlotta was just as shy when she was first touched on stage by a man."

I knew that Piangi had rolled his eyes, sitting back down on the bench, waiting for us to continue. I looked up at Raoul, whispering to him, "I really am trying, Raoul. I just don't know how to be sensual or advancing towards men."

He smiled, kissing my forehead softly. "It's all right. You're doing a great job, Christine," he said as he parted from the stage, his attention turned towards Monsieur Reyer. "Let's take it from Aminta's verse in  _The Point of No Return_ , and we'll go from there."

Monsieur Reyer nodded, playing the chord just before my words began. I sang throughout the rest of the chorus, being as advancing as I could be towards Piangi, but I found it difficult to do so. We continued with rehearsal well into the night, until our voices were raw and our feet were sore. While I was walking back to my room, I heard Raoul's voice behind Andre and Firmin's office door.

"I am not going to do that!"

"What's the harm? You two will be married this spring and I know it's got to be killing you that you haven't gotten up that skirt yet."

"We're not like that! We're waiting until we're married!"

"Look, Monsieur le Vicomte, we know you love the girl, but don't you want a little sample of what you're going to have on your wedding night? All we're asking for you to do is making some advances towards her, show her that there's not only emotional love, but physical love as well."

"No, I do not want a sample of what it could be like, because I want the whole thing on the night of our wedding! She will be sublime on that stage in two nights, and I will not take her virginity in order for her to fit her character more."

As much as I appreciated Raoul standing up for what we believe in, I grew angry and frustrated at the conversation that I had just heard. I stomped the rest of the way back to my room, slamming my door shut and locking the door. I threw the score down on the bed, cursing the Phantom for giving me such a character that I knew that I could never live up to. I didn't have the guts, and I didn't have the personality for it either. I quickly tore off my costume after I loosened the ties, not caring if I ripped it at all. I threw it across the room, looking for something to wear to bed. I left my corset on, pulling on a robe for the meantime and sitting down at my vanity, my head in my hands. What was I going to do? I couldn't live up to this character; there was no way. My career at the Opera Populaire would be over just as it started. I looked at my hands, folding them together as I looked up at the ceiling, then back down at my hands again.

"I'm not sure if I should be praying for this or not," I said quietly, closing my eyes, resting my head against my folded hands, "but I'm not sure what I should do. This could be my big break, even though I was successful as Alyssa and the Countess. I have never been publically groped and kissed on stage before, and I'm really struggling here. I want to be successful, but how can I be successful when the cost of it is so high? Please…please give me the strength to get through this opera, whether I find my inner sensuality or not. That's all I ask. Please…please just help me if you can."

I sighed quietly, making the sign of the cross with one of my hands, sitting down on my bed. As I leaned over to blow my candle out, it went out on its own. And I knew. I straightened up immediately, moving to get off of the bed, knowing he had heard. Knowing he had listened to every word that I just said. I looked around my room, wondering where he was.

"I didn't appreciate you tearing off your costume in such a manner, my dear," said a voice in the shadows coolly and quietly, with only a touch of frustration and anger. "You could have ripped it, and then where would you be? The seamstresses can't repair costumes quickly, you know."

"I…I know. I'm sorry, but I am just so…damn frustrated with this opera of yours, and I'm about to burn every piece of music that I can find."

"If you do that, I will have to spank you for being the insolent and ungrateful child that you are being," he said in reply, his voice more angry and cold now. "How could you treat my music like this in such a way, throwing it down while you had that little tantrum? How could you treat me like this, your Angel and your companion for so many years?"

"You are not an Angel. You are the Phantom. You are the person who has caused all of the accidents that I have seen over the years, and –"

"And I'm also the person who can help you with this part."

I blinked, turning towards the mirror, and I gasped. I saw him standing there, on the other side. My hands moved over my mouth, moving to sit back down in the chair by my vanity. He had taken me completely by surprise, and I wondered how long he had been standing there, watching me. "How can you help me," I asked, watching him as he stood like a statue on the other side of the mirror, his own eyes watching over me. "I am a lost cause."

He chuckled darkly, placing his hand on the glass, looking at me still. "Isn't that what you said to me so many years ago when I first taught you to sing? I can teach you to be sensual too; you won't feel anything, it won't hurt, and we'll only go as far as you want me to go."

"I don't know if I should agree to this. Something may happen that we both regret."

"Stop resisting, and come to me…"

"No, I can't. I need to rest."

_I am your Angel of Music…_

"Stop it," I said softly, placing my hands over my ears to not be enticed by his voice, but it was no use. It plagued my ears with its sweet and whole sound as I turned my back to the mirror.

_Come to me, Angel of Music…_

"I can't," I said weakly, not realizing that he had opened the mirror and stepped inside my room, moving behind me, and placing his hands on my arms, moving them down away from my ears. I felt his lips against my earlobe as he sang those enticing words again.

_I am your Angel of Music…Come to me, Angel of Music…_

With that, I was lost. I was now in his control again as I placed my hand in his, and he pulled me inside to the tunnel behind my mirror. He pulled me along the tunnels and the corridors, keeping my body close to his as we walked. My mind was beating against his hold on me, but I found it hard to resist him the more I walked deeper into the catacombs and closer to his lair. I looked down at myself as he helped me into his gondola, seeing that I was still in my robe and corset, having completely forgotten to dress for bed.

"You shouldn't see me like this," I said softly as we moved across the lake, pulling my robe closer and tighter around me to hide what I had on.

"If you pull that robe any tighter, I won't be able to help you," he said in reply as he turned the corner to his lair.

"But I'm only in my corset and this robe."

"This is perfect for what you're going to learn tonight, Christine. The character of Aminta is modest in some forms, but when the rich man named Don Juan chooses to court her, she decides that she has to be a little more…unconventional, so to speak."

The boat stopped and he tied it to a rock to hold it in place, stepping out to help me out of the boat. I placed my hands in his and he pulled me up gently, helping me to step out onto the cool rocks of his domain. "I didn't think about that when I considered the background of the character," I said honestly as he walked me over to his piano, sitting down on the bench and turning towards me again. He looked at me up and down, and then pulled the tie of my robe in one swift movement. My robe came open, revealing my creamy soft legs and the tight corset that was around my body. I gasped loudly, moving to cover myself.

"Don't. You need to learn this, Christine, whether you like it or not."

"But –"

Just as I was about to say something, he played a chord on his piano, and began to sing.

**You have come here in pursuit of your deepest urge, in pursuit of that wish which till now has been silent. Silent…**

I shuddered at his voice, turning my back to him. He stood up, coming behind me, moving his hands to my arms.

**I have brought you so that our passions may fuse and merge. In your mind you've already succumbed to me, dropped all defenses; completely succumbed to me. Now you are here with me, no second thoughts. You've decided…decided…**

I turned to him slowly and he took a step back, slowly beckoning me with his finger to follow him.

**Past the point of no return…no backward glances. Our games of make-believe are at an end…**

He raised his hand and signaled me to stop. I did so, my eyes not leaving his as he moved behind me once more, his hands on my shoulders as he sang into my ear.

**Past all thought of if or when…no use resisting…abandon thought and let the dream descend…**

He lowered one sleeve of my robe and I tensed up immediately. He placed his hand over my throat, his thumb moving across the soft skin as I tilted my head to the side, relaxing.

**What raging fire shall flood the soul? What rich desire unlocks its door? What sweet seduction lies before us?**

He placed a small kiss on the nape of my neck and I let a low moan escape from my lips as he continued to hold me, running his other hand down my chest ever so slowly. I felt his smile against my skin as I melted against him, feeling a heat growing inside of me that I felt I couldn't stop it.

**Past the point of no return…the final threshold. What warm unspoken secrets will we learn beyond the point of no return?**

He let me go and turned me to face him. My cheeks were flushed as he looked at me, his breathing quick and yet composed. He held out his hand to me and said, "Sing." I obeyed his command, standing still at first.

_You have brought me to that moment when words run dry. To that moment when speech disappears into silence…silence…_

I stepped closer to him, slowly placing my hands on his chest. I slowly moved my hands down to the buttons of his jacket, slowly unbuttoning them as I sang again.

_I have come here hardly knowing the reason why. In my mind, I've already imagined our bodies entwining, defenseless and silent. Now I am here with you, no second thoughts. I've decided…decided…_

His jacket was now unbuttoned and I gently moved my hands up, sliding it off and dropping it to the floor. I moved to his vest next, repeating the process as I did with the jacket, sliding that off and dropping it to the floor as well. I looked at his face, his beautiful face that was covered by that mask. I lifted my hand to his mask, slowly lifting upward. He clapped his hand over mine, stopping me from what I wanted to do.

"No, Christine…"

"Yes, Erik…" I said softly, lifting his mask gently off of his face, dropping it behind me, hearing it clatter on the floor. He bent down to get it and I kicked it further away, pushing against the catacomb wall. He let out a low, frustrated growl.

"You're going to pay for that later."

I ignored the comment, beginning to sing again as I played with the ties to his shirt, untying them as I sang.

_Past the point of no return…no going back now…Our passion-play has now at last begun. Past all thought of right or wrong. One final question: how long should we two wait before we're one?_

I slowly opened the shirt, placing a small kiss on his chest. He felt him shudder and stepped forward, coming off of the catacomb wall, stepping back. He was resisting me. I went after him slowly, taking him by the hand with one hand, and caressing his scars with the other. He leaned into my hand, his eyes closed as he gently pressed my back against another wall of the catacombs, lightly pressing his forehead against mine as I sang again.

_When will the blood begin to race? The sleeping bud burst into bloom? When will the flames at last consume us?_

I felt his hands slide my rope off and join his clothes that were only a few feet away from us. He ran his hands along my curves before cupping my buttocks and lifting me up. On instinct, I wrapped my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck as he carried me to his bed, keeping his eyes on me as our voices joined together for the last refrain of the song.

_**Past the point of no return…the final threshold! The bridge is crossed, so stand and watch it burn!** _

He laid me down on the bed gently, slowly crawling on top of me, moving my hands above my head and pinning them gently with one hand as the other ran down my chest again. Instantly, my back arched, moving my chest closer to him as we sang the last line of the song.

_**We've passed the point of no return…** _

I panted softly as his hand stop on my side, my eyes closed as I absorbed his touch. He leaned down slowly, pressing his lips gently against my skin over my collarbone. I let out a soft, content sigh as he planted more kisses slowly, moving between my neck and my collarbone. I had let myself go; I had given myself to pleasure, and I was willing to give myself further. The heat grew faster and faster within my body, and let a soft moan escape my lips as he suckled gently on the nape of my neck. He looked down at me, thinking that he had done something wrong, but when he noticed how flushed my cheeks were, he moved his lips further down, kissing the tops of my breasts. My breathing became quicker as his hands began to travel and roam along my slender body before moving to my corset, slowly loosening the ties. Suddenly, he stopped, adjusting my corset and slowly sitting up, releasing me from his grasp and sitting on the edge of the bed. I panted softly, sitting up, placing my hand on his back, wondering what I had done wrong.

"You did very well, Christine," he said, his voice shaky and unstable, not looking at me.

"What's the matter? Did I do something wrong?"

"Absolutely not. You did what you were supposed to do; you embraced the part of Aminta and you did it very well. You will be ready for your performance tomorrow night. I just…"

"You just what?"

"Just as you said, Christine. I don't want to do something that I'm going to regret in the future, and I know that you don't either."

"O-oh," I said softly, sitting back a little, embarrassed. There was something going on with my body, and I didn't know what it was. I made sure that he wasn't looking before I ran my hand up my thigh and in between my legs, gasping softly as I felt a strange, unfamiliar wetness in between my legs. I quickly placed my hand beside me as the Phantom turned around, looking at me curiously.

"Are you all right, Christine," he asked, placing his hand over mine. I quickly pulled my hand away, knowing that he probably felt the wetness that was on my fingers.

"I'm f-fine, Erik," I replied nervously, but he moved closer to me, a sly smirk on his face.

"I felt you," he whispered, crawling over me. "You're not all right, are you?" When I tried to jump over him, he wrapped his arms around my waist, pinning me back down to the bed. Even though I struggled against him and he pinned me further to the bed, it aroused me even more and the heat spiked, as my resistance began to wane. "Be honest with me, Christine. Do you feel a heat in your body right at this very moment?"

"I…I…"

"Christine…" he said softly, one of his hands running slowly up my thigh, closer to wear the heat was strongest. It was the only place on my body that was clothed besides my chest. My breathing quickened with anticipation as his hand stopped just inches away from my core, looking at me again. "Do you feel a heat in your body at this very moment," he asked again, his finger slowly hooking the cloth and pulling it to the side. I was exposed, and I couldn't stop it. I didn't want to stop it.

"Yes," I whispered, my cheeks turning a crimson red. He smiled, looking up at me.

"It's nothing to be embarrassed about. It's natural. You're feeling pleasure, probably for the first time."

"Y-yes, I a-am," I said again, watching him as he kissed my arm, still shy and embarrassed.

"I guess your little Vicomte hasn't taught you anything about pleasure."

I shook my head. "We have only kissed."

"Give yourself to pleasure, Christine," he whispered softly, his hand slowly moving over my folds. I let out a gasp, feeling a wave rush over my body.

"H-how? How can I give myself to pleasure?"

"Shh…just relax and experience what it feels like."

I let out a slow breath, closing my eyes. I felt his fingers massage my folds gently as to not hurt me. I let out a little moan, my hand moving around his neck. Slowly, I felt a tip of his finger trying to enter me and I gasped softly, shaking my head 'no.' He smiled softly, as if he knew what to do. He pulled the cloth back more, my core and small bud exposed more now. He let out a low sigh, inching his mouth closer and closer. He licked once, very slowly and gently as I gasped, my eyes shooting open. I looked at him and he looked at me as he licked again, and I let out a low moan, my head falling back against the pillows. He began to quicken the pace of his tongue as my breathing and moans began to increase, my hips starting to buck as my body begged for more.

"Oooooh…Erik…" I moaned out, my hands entangling in his hair. He smiled softly against the folds of my confines, as waves began to overpower me and the pleasure within my body became stronger. The strangest thing was that it was like he knew and his speed increased. I gripped the sheets of the bed, moaning more and more. I didn't dare let go as the waves overpowered me even more, my breathing becoming more labored. He brought his head up, looking at me as I whimpered, my hips quivering, the smirk on his face wide.

"Let it go, Christine. Don't be afraid to let it go." With that, he began to ravage my core and I let out a loud gasp, which was followed by a pleasurable moan. I threw my hands back, gripping the headboard as I cried out, and my entire body now on the edge.

"Christine…my sweet Christine…"

Then, another voice, pulling me out of the world I was in.

"Miss Day? Sophia?"

My eyes fluttered as I felt a slight tingle in my legs. I slowly opened my eyes, finding ADA Nolan and a cop that I didn't recognize. I rubbed my eyes, feeling very disappointed that I didn't finish my dream. I slowly sat up, rubbing my eyes.

"Good morning, Mr. Nolan. There's my laptop," I said, pointing to my desk. The other cop nodded as I swung my legs around, placing my feet on the floor.

"Sleep well," ADA Nolan asked me, watching the tech person open the laptop, working on it to find where the emails came from.

"You have no idea," I said softly, running my hand through my hair. I sighed softly, thinking about what Monsieur Destler said. He was right. I had to tell ADA Nolan about us. I took a breath, standing up, folding my arms across my chest. "Mr. Nolan?"

"Yes, Sophia?"

"I need to tell you something."


	19. The Trial

It was Tuesday. Day two of the trial, and I was a nervous wreck. I dressed as nicely as possible, having ridden with my parents to the courthouse for my chance to testify against Buquet. Drake and Monsieur Destler met us there, saving us some seats in the courthouse on the side of the prosecution. On Sunday, I told ADA Nolan everything about Monsieur Destler and I. He was pretty mad about it, but told me to be honest on the stand, and told Monsieur Destler the same when he saw him in the courtroom this morning. I skipped school the day before to listen to the opening arguments of ADA Nolan and Buquet's lawyer, Andrew Harley. ADA Nolan was right; he not only was a shark of a lawyer, but he looked like one too. He was an older man as well, had gray hair, a sharp jaw, and was about as tall as Buquet when they stood together. When Buquet saw me come into the courtroom, he smiled at me. I didn't look at him, keeping my eyes on the judge and the twelve members of the jury. ADA Nolan began after the judge came in, who thankfully was a woman, telling the jury how Buquet was a predator and how his actions upon me were premeditated, and he deserved to go to jail for all that he had done to me. The defense's story was much different. Mr. Harley told the court that Buquet was an innocent man, and that my stories against him were fictional fragments of a young girl's imagination, and to get the attention of my parents and other adults in my life.

I sat in between Monsieur Destler and Drake, while my parents sat on the opposite side of Drake, not even acknowledging Monsieur Destler when he said good morning to them. I watched as the day in court seemed to drag on, with ADA Nolan's witnesses being called before the court first. The first two witnesses that were called were the lead detective on my case, who told the story of when I walked into the police station to report my rape. He acknowledged that the report that I made against Buquet was accurate and correct, and it hadn't changed since day one. However, when Mr. Harley questioned the detective, he asked him how I was acting when I made the statement. He had my emotions right; I was exhausted, distraught, and hysterical at times during the time that I was at the police station and when I was at the hospital. However, that didn't seem to be the case with Mr. Harley. He prodded the detective that maybe I was acting that way because I was scared, and I accused Buquet of rape because I had sex with someone else. The lead detective stood by his word, saying that I had a legitimate claim of rape. He was dismissed, and the next witness that was called was the doctor who had examined me at the hospital. ADA Nolan presented the evidence that was taken from me during my rape kit, posting pictures of me and copies of the DNA strands that came from the kit, exam, and what they found in my room after they were searching through it. The doctor walked through the evidence that was collected, showing that the entire DNA found under my nails, the spermicide from the condom and the one found in my room was a match. There were also bruises on my thighs from him prying my legs open, and she also told the court that my hymen was torn which was an indicator that I was a virgin when I was raped. As she described the evidence, I lowered my head, rubbing my eyes. Monsieur Destler glanced at Drake and my parents before patting my hand reassuringly, letting me know that it was going to be okay. Mr. Harley contested the evidence that was presented before the court, saying that the bruises could have been caused by anything and anyone, and the torn hymen could have been caused by anyone. We took a twenty minute recess and I stepped outside of the courtroom, running my hands through my hair as I sighed heavily, knowing that my turn was next.

"Are you okay," a voice asked as he came out of the courtroom, standing in front of me. I looked up, seeing ADA Nolan.

"I'm scared," I said softly, looking up at him as my parents, Drake and Monsieur Destler came out of the courtroom, looking at me.

"I know you're scared, but it will all be over soon," he said reassuringly. "Just remember to stay calm and answer the questions honestly."

"I know…I know."

He walked away to get a drink as everyone looked down at me. I felt like Christine as everyone was trying to convince her to perform in the Phantom's opera. My parents didn't say anything as they went back into the courtroom, followed by Drake. Monsieur Destler stayed out in the hallway with me, looking down at me. Suddenly, before he could speak, we heard a voice from the other side of the hallway, evil and cold with a sly smirk in his voice.

"Why doesn't this surprise me," the voice asked, folding his arms over his chest, watching as we both looked up, seeing Buquet. "I bet you're glad that I knocked it out of you, aren't you Sophia? Now you can be with your precious music teacher while you still can."

"Leave her alone, James. You've done enough damage, don't you think?"

"Oh, no. I haven't even begun to do damage yet, Erik," he said, looking at me, even though Monsieur Destler shielded me behind him. "I will see her shed tears before she steps off of that stand today."

I saw Monsieur Destler lunge forward, grabbing Buquet by the shirt, lifting him and slamming him into the wall. I gasped, trying to pull Monsieur Destler back and he gripped Buquet by the throat. He gasped for air, holding onto Monsieur Destler's arm as court officers came running. "The crazy man defending the crazy girl! Can't you do something about this," Buquet shouted towards the court officers, just as Monsieur Destler dropped him to the ground, stepping back as I stood in front of him, panting softly.

"She's not crazy! She's telling the truth!"

"Erik…" I whispered softly so only he would hear. "Please stop."

The court officers helped Buquet up, which he shrugged off, going back into the courtroom. Monsieur Destler looked down at me, cupping my chin in his hand, his eyes soft and gentle.

_Sophie…Sophie, don't think that I don't care_ , he sang in a whisper so only I would hear,  _but every hope and every prayer rests on you now…_

My eyes widened as I stared up at his face, taking a step back as they called my name to come into the courtroom. Did I hear what I had just heard? That was the same song that Raoul had sung to Christine when she was struggling with her decision for the Phantom's opera. Could it be that he was having the dreams too? Thoughts began to race through my mind as I stepped back into the courtroom, walking forward to take the stand. I absentmindedly placed my right hand on the bible and raised my left hand, staring out into the courtroom before I heard the judge say, "Miss Day? Did you hear what the court officer just asked you?"

"I'm sorry, what?"

"Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?"

"I do."

"Please state your name for the court."

"Sophia Christine Day."

"Please have a seat."

I sat down behind the stand as ADA Nolan stood up behind his table, walking around as he buttoned his suit jacket. He smiled at me reassuringly, leaning up against the barrier between the floor and the jury.

"Miss Day, please tell the court a little about yourself."

"I'm seventeen years old and I attend Peabody High School, where Mr. Buquet was the principal. I'm really involved with all of the musical activities at the school, performing in the drama club, choir, and band. There is nothing that makes me happier than music."

"I see. So, how did all of this start with you and Mr. Buquet?"

"Well, I was on a class trip to Paris and we were visiting the Paris Opera House on the first day that we arrived. I was walking around in the theater, and when Monsieur Destler came in to find me, the chandelier fell and I pushed him out of the way so that the chandelier would fall on me."

"That was very brave of you. It sounds like you're lucky to be alive."

I nodded. "I woke up in the hospital a few hours later and Monsieur Destler was there, but I fell asleep not long after I woke up and visited with Drake for a little while."

"Drake was your boyfriend, correct?"

"Yes, sir."

He nodded. "When you woke up again, who was in your room to keep an eye on you?"

"Mr. Buquet."

"Was he one of the original chaperones on the trip?"

"No. When the accident happened, Monsieur Destler called him to let him know what happened and he flew out immediately. When I woke up, he was coming out of the bathroom."

"Can you tell me what happened next?"

"We were just talking, and suddenly I felt something creeping up my leg. It was his hand. He…he…"

"Take your time, Sophia."

"He began to touch me…in between my legs."

"Unprovoked? And you didn't ask him to?"

"No, sir. I even asked him to stop, and he wouldn't. He said that if I didn't let him do what he wanted with me, Monsieur Destler would lose his job and I would lose my scholarship."

"Mr. Destler? Now, he's your music teacher, correct?"

"Yes, sir."

"So, what you're saying is that even though you refused his advances, you let him do what he wanted because you were trying to protect Mr. Destler's job?"

"I said 'no' every time that I was pulled out of class. This continued every day since we returned from Paris."

"What classes were you pulled out of?"

"It was always music class."

"For how long?"

"Usually twenty minutes, or until the bell rang for the next class," I said, my hands starting to tremble as I gripped the arms of the chair, not daring to look to the other side of the courtroom.

"Are you okay?"

I nodded, my eyes locked on him.

"Describe for the court the night of the rape."

I took a shaky breath, looking at the jury. "It was two weeks ago. My boyfriend, Drake, and I were at my house, watching a movie while my parents were out of town. I fell asleep and Drake carried me upstairs to my room. While I slept, Drake cleaned up the dishes, turned off the television, and left. When he left, he didn't lock the front door like he was supposed to. The only thing that I can assume was that Mr. Buquet was watching the house and waiting for him to leave so he could come in." I took another breath, my eyes traveling throughout the courtroom, seeing Buquet whispering to Mr. Harley. "The next thing I knew, I felt something hard pushing inside of me and this intense pain shot through me. I woke up and found Buquet on top of me. I fought him, scratched him, and clawed him, trying to push him off of me. I even yelled and screamed, telling him to stop and that he was hurting me, but he kept going until he came. He…he used a condom, which he threw away in my room. I was in so much pain."

"So, the medical findings from your rape kit are consistent with your story; you were a virgin when you were raped by Mr. Buquet?"

I nodded softly, sniffling as I grabbed a tissue, wiping my tears away.

"Sophia, have you altered this story in any way?"

"No, sir."

"Thank you, Sophia. No further questions."

I wiped my eyes again as ADA Nolan went back to his table and sat back down. I brought my head up as Mr. Harley cleared his throat, looking at me.

"So, you say that my client raped you, after he repeatedly molested you over the course of two months?"

"Yes, sir, that's correct."

"Then how would you explain this email that was sent by you to my client the day of the rape," he asked me, showing the same piece of paper that Buquet had shown me the night that he raped me.

"I never sent that email. It's a fake, and Mr. McGregor will tell you so when he testifies."

"Uh-huh. And what about your lead in the school musical?"

"Objection! Relevance?"

"The witness opened the door when she was telling the court about her performing in the various musical activities in the school. I would like to know how she got that role."

The judge nodded. "I'll allow it."

"I auditioned like everyone else."

"Uh-huh. Miss Day, how would you describe your relationship with Mr. Destler?"

I took a breath, letting it out slowly. "He's my teacher. I admire him, and he has helped me a great deal through this mess."

"So, you didn't have sex with him to get the part?"

"Objection!"

"Withdrawn. You say that you admire Mr. Destler. Would you do anything for him?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you were with my client to save his job."

"I wasn't with him willingly."

"But you were still with him. And what about your parents? They're not home very often; isn't it possible that you could be telling and spinning this story to get their attention?"

"I'm not making this up."

"Your emotions are running high, and since they're running so high, would you care to explain this," he said, turning on the television that was in the courtroom. I turned my attention to it, groaning at the images that appeared on the television screen. Someone had taken video of the fight between Chrissy and I, and it was given to the defense to use against me. I looked down at my hands, the scabs on my knuckles and hands slowly healing as I looked back up to the courtroom, starting to panic.

"She-she provoked me," I replied shakily.

"She provoked you? Look at you, Miss Day! You're pummeling her into the ground!"

"Objection!"

"Stop it."

"And look who comes to save the day! Your very own favorite teacher! Hmm, he's holding you just a little too close, don't you think?"

"Stop it!" I sobbed, holding my head in my hands.

"Oh, but I'm not done, Miss Day. Look what else some cameras found," he said, switching the clip. I looked up, gasping. It was a clip from the same day. Monsieur Destler pinning me to the wall, and kissing me.

"Oh, God…"

"Hmm, Miss Day, I don't think you were very clear on your relationship with Mr. Destler, were you?"

"OBJECTION!"

"No further questions," Mr. Harley stated with a smug look, sitting back down at his table. The judge dismissed me from the stand and I ran out of the courtroom, sobbing as I went into a corner. Luckily, the judge called for a lunch recess and court was adjourned until that afternoon. I stayed in the corner, crying so hard that I couldn't breathe. After a moment, I felt someone's arms wrap around me. I recognized the build and the familiar scent as I cried into his shoulder, wrapping my arms around him tightly.

"Drake, I am so sorry," I sobbed as I clung to him, gripping his shirt.

"Shh…no, I'm sorry, Sophie. I am so sorry that this happened to you," he whispered, holding me in his arms as I cried. My parents walked past us, followed by Monsieur Destler. I ignored them all, only focusing on Drake for the moment. "I'm also sorry that I let this happen to you. I wish I could have stopped it."

"Please, stop. I just need you to hold me right now."

He nodded, holding me close to him as I cried. I don't know how long I cried, but his shoulder was soaked with my tears. I didn't pull away for a while, laying my head on his other shoulder. He kissed the top of my head, and then he asked the question that had been burning inside of him for months.

"Do you love him?"

I couldn't bear to hide it any longer, slowly bringing my head up to look at him. "I do, and I think I always have," I replied honestly, thinking about us in the present and Christine and the Phantom in the past.

"You know that you two can never be together, right," he asked, tucking some hair behind my ear, helping me to stand. "It won't ever work between you two. He's like, twelve years older than us."

"I know, Drake, but you know what? I need a little happiness right now. This is tearing me up, and be thankful that you're just a character witness and you're not the victim."

"Sophie…I think you may need some help. This isn't healthy for you."

"I don't need you to be patronizing of me right now! I need you to be supportive!"

"I'm being supportive, Sophie. I'm just suggesting something for the future."

"I need to be alone," I said, walking away from him, going to the stairs, sitting down on a stair a couple flights down from the floor. I sighed heavily. My case was now definitely screwed, after the tape of Chrissy getting pummeled by my own hand, and Monsieur Destler kissing me in the hallway outside of the auditorium. What was going to happen now? What was Drake going to say on the stand? Better yet, what was Monsieur Destler going to say on the stand? I sat there in the quiet stairwell, humming softly the song we wrote together. For some reason, it seemed to soothe me, even though it was only a small bit. I leaned back against the wall, humming more and more, the song echoing through the empty stairwell. Then, a voice joined in with my humming, footsteps coming up the stairs slowly. I opened my eyes, and I saw Monsieur Destler, sitting beside me, wrapping his arms around me. Our voices, low and soothing, entwining as one once more.

* * *

The trial resumed after lunch. I was in the courtroom first, followed by Drake and Monsieur Destler after Monsieur Destler held me in the stairwell. My parents didn't return, and I wasn't sure where they had gone. I guess they couldn't take it. Drake was called to testify first for my character, telling the court how I was a good person and a good girl, that I would never hurt anyone and that I was a virgin while we were together. He also told the court that we had never had sex while we were together. When Mr. Harley had him on cross, he began to pry more and more about my relationship with Monsieur Destler and how Drake felt about it. Drake told the court honestly that he didn't know the extent of our relationship until today with the video clip from the camera. He also told the court that it did make him a little jealous, but he knew that I was happy with him and Monsieur Destler. He had only hoped that Buquet would go to jail for what he had done to me. After Drake stepped down from the stand, Monsieur Destler was called up to testify. He strode slowly, moving up to the stand, placing his hand on the Bible and swearing to tell the truth. He stated his name for the record, and then sat down in the chair, waiting for ADA Nolan to begin his questioning.

"Mr. Destler, how long have you been a teacher at Peabody High School," ADA Nolan asked him as he stood up, walking out from behind the table, watching him.

"Four years, and I'm twenty-nine years old."

"I see. So, you have had Miss Day as a student since she was a freshman then, is that correct?"

"Yes, sir, that's correct."

"Describe her as a student. What was she like?"

"She was a dedicated and hard worker to everything that I put in front of her. She's a perfectionist; she wants to succeed and do well. She has that drive about her, and you can see it really shine through when she's in the school musicals."

"Would you say that drive is her downfall?"

"Absolutely not. It makes her more confident as a student."

"Do you believe that she feels comfortable with you as a teacher?"

"Yes, I do. I was the only adult that she came to when I first became aware of what Mr. Buquet was doing to her. She also came to me when she was raped. With her parents not home very often, she doesn't have good, strong authority figures in her life, so she felt comfortable coming to me."

"Would you care to explain the video that we saw earlier? Both clips, if you please."

"Well, the day was normal, but I knew that Miss Day had reported the rape the night before. I was walking down the hallway when I heard Miss Page yell, which was followed by students clamoring and cheering on Miss Day as she continued to fight with Miss Page. I was the only teacher to break through the sea of students and pull Miss Day off of Miss Page. I was only holding her so close to restrain her. As you saw in the tape, she was incredibly angry, and I had only found out later from another student what Miss Page had said to Miss Day."

"And what was said between the two?"

"Miss Page was telling Miss Day that she had given herself willingly to Mr. Buquet and was asking her questions such as if she couldn't take it or if she enjoyed it. Miss Page also flicked Miss Day's hair while she spoke to her. Miss Page provoked Miss Day, and that is why the fight started between the two."

"What about the other clip that we saw? The kiss between you and Miss Day."

He looked at me, then back at ADA Nolan. "She was upset because I canceled rehearsal so she was angry. She said that she didn't want to live anymore, and I kissed her so she would see that she wasn't alone, and that she would never be alone."

"Do you care for Miss Day, Mr. Destler?"

He looked at me before he spoke. "I do, Mr. Nolan."

"Do you believe that she's making any of this up?"

"No, I do not, especially when I was the only person that she could come to and that she could trust when this was happening."

"Thank you, Mr. Destler. No further questions," ADA Nolan said as he sat back down. Mr. Harley stood up, coming around the other side of the table, eyeing Monsieur Destler as he spoke.

"Why didn't you go to her parents when she first told you about what my client was allegedly doing to her?"

"I would have if her parents were at home long enough to know what was going on."

"Hmm…so when you say that you care for Miss Day, do you mean that you love her?"

He looked at me again. He didn't smile, but I knew that he was only going to try and protect me. "I care for her a great deal."

"But do you love her?"

"As a student…yes. As a lover…no. She is too young, and we both know that it wouldn't last if we even tried."

"So you want to try and be with her?"

"Objection!"

"Withdrawn. Mr. Destler, you said that she came to you the night of the rape. Where were you?"

"I was at home, alone."

"Oh, so you were home alone. Well, then couldn't it be possible that you were the one who had sex with her?"

"Objection!"

"I have not touched her like that."

"But does it make you angry that someone else did?"

"It makes me angry that someone else hurt her like she was hurt."

"Angry enough to hurt someone, Mr. Destler?"

He sat there silent, not saying a word.

"You have some anger issues, don't you, especially when it comes to men hurting women?"

"No, I do not have anger issues."

"Really? Then how did a window in your classroom get smashed one Saturday morning? I believe that was because Miss Day told you that my client was allegedly molesting her."

He stayed silent, glaring at him.

"And what about what happened in the hallway earlier today? Didn't you grab my client by the shirt and slam him up against the wall for him even speaking to Miss Day?"

He glared at him, sighing softly. "Yes."

"Hmm, well, looks like Miss Day better watch out if one teacher is supposedly molesting her, the other could be abusing her."

"Objection!"

"No further questions."

Monsieur Destler stepped down from the stand, leaving the courtroom. I didn't follow him at first, and then I looked at my watch, seeing that it was almost three in the afternoon. ADA Nolan turned to whisper to me before he called up the prosecution's last witness. "You can go ahead and leave, Miss Day. I know that you have dress rehearsal this evening."

I nodded, getting my things and leaving. I didn't say goodbye to ADA Nolan. I didn't ask Drake for a ride to the school. I took the elevator down, going outside to hail a cab. I didn't see Monsieur Destler anywhere, and quite frankly, I didn't want to see him. He loved me as a lover; I knew that he did. Otherwise, how could he have kissed me like he did? How could we have made beautiful music together like we did the other night at his house? I got into the cab, telling it where to go as I adjusted in my seat. When I got to the high school, I went immediately to the auditorium, getting ready for the dress rehearsal.

* * *

The rehearsal ran smoothly, and everything was falling into place for the show. I was the last one to leave, changing my clothes slowly as I rubbed my eyes. I was exhausted. It had been a long day, and my mental and emotional minds were on the brink. While rehearsing, my mind fell upon the song that Monsieur Destler had sung to me in the hallway. I was startled by it, but it made me wonder how he knew that. My mind traveled to the dreams again as I rubbed my eyes, slipping my shoes on that I had worn in court today. I wondered what happened to the Phantom and Christine. Would they end up together or would she choose Raoul? How did the performance of Don Juan go? I came out of the dressing room, shutting the door and immediately bumping into Monsieur Destler. He had been waiting for me. I tried to step around him, but he gently grabbed my arm, pulling me back to him to face him.

"I want to talk to you about today."

"What is there to talk about? You only love me as a student. I understand," I said, shrugging my arm out from his grip. "I have a long walk home, so if you'll excuse me," I said again, stepping away from him.

"I lied on the stand."

I froze on the stage, turning back to look at him. "Are you insane? If they find out about that, they can declare a mistrial!"

"They won't find out about it, as long as you don't say anything," he said, coming up to me, and placing his hand on my neck. "You need to keep this to yourself, Sophie. As hard as it will be, you need to keep this to yourself. I love you, Sophia. As a student and as a lover."

"Monsieur Destler, I –"

"Erik."

"What?"

"Please, call me Erik," he said, planting a small soft kiss on my lips. His lips moved to my cheeks, then my nose. "I love you, Sophia. I just thought you should know, even if you don't want to be with me."

"I…I need some time. I don't know what I want right now."

"I understand. Now, I know you noticed that your parents were gone. They couldn't take it, so they put me in charge of you while they are out of town."

"Did they say how long they were going to be out of town?"

"No. I'm sorry, Sophia. They shouldn't have left you like this."

"They do this all of the time. They don't care about me."

"Well, I care about you," he said, kissing my forehead. "Come on, I'm taking you home. You need to rest," he said, taking my hand and walking with me out to his car. He opened the door for me, helping me inside and shutting the door before he got inside. He drove to my house, stopping in the front, parking his car. "Would you like me to stay with you? Are you going to be okay staying here alone?"

"No, I don't want to bother you. I'll be okay staying here alone."

"Well, if you need anything, you know where I'll be and you know how to get ahold of me," he said, kissing my lips softly again. "Sophia, I love you."

"I love you too, Erik."

He smiled softly, getting out and helping me out of the car, walking me up to the front door. "I'll be here for as long as you need. I'll wait for you."

I smiled softly. "I know," I said, unlocking the door, going inside. "Goodnight, Erik."

"Goodnight, Sophia."

I watched him leave, shutting and locking the door behind me. I walked up the stairs to my room. I felt like I was floating on air. He loved me. He really loved me. And I loved him. But how could we be together, especially during this trial. I changed for bed, laying down and pulling the sheets over me, holding onto a pillow. My mind traveled to Christine again, wondering if she loved the Phantom as well as Raoul. And again, what happened next after the practice for Don Juan? I closed my eyes and fell into a deep sleep, slipping back into the confines of my dreams.


	20. Don Juan Triumphante

I awoke with a start, sitting up in my bed, looking around the room. I was back in my room, when only hours before I had been with the Phantom in the folds of passion. I sighed softly, thinking about his touch, his lips, and his tongue. My legs twitched at the thought, as well as the core in between my legs. I walked around the room, and left a note outside, asking not to be disturbed before the performance. I read the score and libretto over and over in the time that I woke up and the performance. I heard a knock after a few hours. It was low, as not to disturb me.

"Christine," Madame Giry's voice rang through my door, not coming in. "It's time."

I nodded. "Thank you, Madame," I said softly, setting the score down and getting my costume, putting it on slowly, looking at myself in the mirror. I took the hairpin that was on my vanity, a bright red rose, and placed it in my hair. I looked myself over again, then turned around, looking at the floor length mirror. I didn't know if he would be on the other side, but I went over to it, placing my hand on the glass. "I'm nervous about this opera of yours," I spoke softly, so only he would hear if he was there, "but I want to thank you again for what we did last night. It was amazing, and I'll never forget it, just as I will never forget you." With that, I came out of my room, walking barefoot along the corridor to the stage. I listened to the corps singing the first song. I glanced out at the audience, and saw the cringing faces of women and the disgusted looks of men as they listened to the words and saw the dancing. Piangi and Passerino came out next, singing before I came out. I breathed deeply as Monsieur Reyer cued my entrance and I came out, looking out into the audience with my basket of roses as I sang my first line.

_No thoughts within her head but thoughts of joy. No dreams within her heart but dreams of love…_

My back was turned to the sets that lay behind me, and Don Juan emerged from the curtain, holding his cloak in front of his face, below his mask. I heard Passerino sing nervously, and then I heard the reply.

**Passerino…go away for the trap is set and waits for its prey…**

I let out a little sigh as I played with the petals on one of the roses, wondering how I would do with Piangi now that we were performing. Then, I heard the voice again, and something struck me. I straightened up, letting out a shaky breath. I turned my head quickly to look at him and as I was about to gasp, he placed his finger over his lips, telling me to keep quiet. He was there, the Phantom of the Opera, in place of Piangi, singing the part of Don Juan. I slowly turned my head back out to the audience, letting his voice fill my soul again as he sang.

I slowly stood up, watching him as I panted softly. It was taking all of my energy not to ravage him right there on stage. And he knew how I was struggling; he had a smirk on his face. He placed his hand out in front of me to keep me still as he approached me, singing once again. He moved around me, running his soft fingers up and down my bare arms. He grabbed ahold of my neck as I gasped quietly, trembling at his touch. My body began to ache for him once more as he sang, his lips just lightly brushing against my neck. The pleasure was once again growing inside of me as he sang, and I couldn't stand it. I just wanted to touch him, even if it was for a brief moment. He took my hand, pulling me around to face him. I felt my hands press against his muscular chest as he pulled me along, his arm wrapped around my waist. As he pulled me long, I felt him against me, hard and ready, wanting me just as much as I wanted him. He took ahold of my delicate throat before I let a low moan escape from my lips, smiling down as he sang.

Then, without warning, he spun me out of his arms and I was face to face with the audience again, panting softly as I looked up at Raoul who was in Box Five. He knew that something wasn't right and had a policeman standing beside him, watching us as I took a breath, and I began to sing. I looked over at the Phantom as I sang, slowly making my way towards him. I moved behind him, placing my hands on his shoulders, running them down his back as I softly kissed his neck. He took a sharp breath, turning back to look at me as I moved to the stairs that led to the bridge that was built above the other sets. Everyone's eyes were on us now; the managers, the stagehands, the police, and the corps that waited backstage. I caught a glimpse Madame Giry, who seemed like her breath was taken away as she watched us together. He walked up his stairs and I walked up mine, my eyes locked on him as the passion inside my body began to rise to a new height. My hands were begging to touch him; my soul was begging to be near him, and my lips were begging to kiss him. By this time, we were both at the top of the bridge and we were looking at each other. My chest was heaving as he threw his cloak off the side of the bridge and we began to walk towards each other. He pulled me against him, my back to his chest as he ran his hands all over my body. I quivered at his touch, breathing slowly as I placed my hands over his, holding them tightly.

"What are you doing here," I asked in a hush whisper, looking around at the surrounding policemen by the stage and waiting in the wings. I held onto his hands tighter, growing more and more nervous. "They're going to kill you, Erik."

"No, they won't," he whispered back, releasing my hands as he moved his hands into my hair. "Christine, do you want to go with me?"

My eyes widened, as my breathing began to quicken and I looked at Raoul, who was watching us, along with everyone who was waiting in the wings. "What?" He kissed my ear softly, turning me to face him, holding my left hand up with his right as he sang to me once more.

**Say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime…lead me save me from my solitude…**

I looked at him with a soft smile, moving my right hand to his face, listening to him as he sang. He moved his free hand into his pocket and I gasped softly, seeing my ring from Raoul being placed on my left ring finger.

**Say you want me with you here, beside you…Anywhere you go, let me go too! Christine, that's all I ask of**  – "NO!"

I had pulled off his mask and the apparent wig that he wore along with it. I longed to see his face, his beautiful face that he had hid so often. However, it had the opposite affect than I had planned. Screams and gasps of shock erupted throughout the Opera Populaire and Erik looked down at me, his eyes full of hurt as I saw the extent of his deformity on his face. I dropped his mask and wig, taking a step back. Suddenly, I felt his arm wrap tightly around me and he kicked at the bridge, a trapdoor opening below us. I let out a scream as we fell into the dark abyss that lay below, knowing that I would never escape his grasp alive.

I yelled as I awoke and bounced off of my bed and onto the floor, groaning as I landed hard on my ass. I looked around the room, trying to familiarize myself with the surroundings. I had been ejected from the dream, and apparently from my bed as well. I sighed, now worried for the dreams. Christine had been taken from the Phantom, and I began to wonder if Erik would take me as well.  _No,_  I thought as I shook my head,  _he would never do that. He loves me…he loves me…_  I sighed heavily, searching my room for my cell to text someone, anyone. But the only person who knew about the dreams was Drake, and I hadn't told about any of them since we left Paris. How could I tell him that I had a sexual dream about Christine and the Phantom when Raoul and Christine didn't even have one? This would definitely show Drake that I was more in love with Erik than I was with him. I decided to get online to research the Paris Opera House, wondering if there was any music left from the past operas. If Erik was going to be leaving, I wanted to give him a proper going away gift: my voice singing as Christine.


	21. The Trial: Part II

I stayed up the rest of the night after I woke up from my latest dream, contacting the people at the Paris Opera House about the music that was in their archives from right around the time that Christine Daae was there. I was on Skype with them most of the time, discovering that they did have some of the music in their archives, but they were pretty old and wouldn't survive a voyage across the sea to America. I asked them if there was any way that they could send me a copy of the music, if it could be copied, and they told me that they would see what they could do. I thanked them and signed off, looking at my clock and seeing that I was late for school. I figured that since I was already late, I might as well go to the courthouse and listen to the testimonies of Buquet and his other witnesses. I took a cab to the courthouse, meeting ADA Nolan outside. Much to his surprise, he was not expecting me to be there. He pulled away from his associate, taking me by the arm to stop me before I went inside.

"Sophia, what are you doing here? Your part of the trial is over," he said, looking down at me.

"I wanted to be here, Mr. Nolan. Don't you believe that it would help my case more?"

He smiled softly. "I'm happy that you want to try and help your case, but you don't need to be here. McGregor took the stand yesterday and testified as to the email being a fake, so that was a good thing. Today, it's going to be Buquet and his witnesses. I'm not sure if you should be here for that."

"Well, I'm already here, so I'm staying," I said sternly and defiantly, taking my arm out of his hand, going into the courthouse. What I didn't realize was that he used his cell phone just after I parted ways with him. I went into the courtroom, taking my seat behind the prosecution's table, looking around. I saw Chrissy there, talking to Buquet and his lawyer. They didn't even take notice of me. I saw a couple other people that I didn't recognize, which I assumed were Buquet's character witnesses. I saw ADA Nolan come in, and the jury followed, filing into their seats. I took my phone out, turning it down just as I felt a strong hand grasp onto my shoulder. I looked up, and I was looking at a frustrated voice of Monsieur Destler. He just looked down at me first, and then took a seat beside me, looking straight ahead.

"Shouldn't you be at school," I asked softly, keeping my eyes to the front, my hands staying on my lap.

"Funny. I could ask you the same thing," he replied softly as we both stood as the judge came into the courtroom.

"I wanted to be here."

"You can't be here alone. You're a minor, and since I'm watching over you until your parents return, I had to be here."

"I'm sure that they got a substitute for you."

"I don't care if they did or didn't. I'm not letting you go through this alone."

I smiled softly and he smiled a little back as we sat back down, and Chrissy was called up first by the defense. I watched her as she walked up to the stand. She wasn't what I would call a creditable witness. She came to court dressed in a mini skirt, blouse that was unbuttoned almost to wear you could see her breasts peeking out from it, and knee high boots. I tried not to snicker as I looked down, regaining myself, as I watched her swear upon the Bible and sit down in the chair, crossing her legs. I watched as the judge lifted her eyebrow at Chrissy and I cleared my throat, trying my hardest not to grin. I felt Erik's hand take mine just for a moment and giving it a squeeze before pulling it away. Mr. Harley stood up first, questioning Chrissy about her relationship with Buquet and if he helped her any way during school. Next, he questioned her about the fight that we had and she told him that she wasn't doing anything wrong and that I just attacked her unprovoked. She proceeded to tell the court that I was a drama queen, and that I would do anything to get my way, and this ranged from the choice of musical and to who had the most solos and lead roles in musicals. Mr. Harley ended his questioning and ADA Nolan stood, turning back and winking at me before turning back and looking at Chrissy, his eyebrows raised.

"That's quite an interesting choice of outfit, Miss Page," he began, strolling over to her. He watched her smirk, running her fingers down her chest to attract attention to her breasts. ADA Nolan, however, wasn't impressed. "Tell me, do you know what conservative means?"

"Yeah, it means boring as all get out."

"It also means respectable, full of moral understanding, and traditional. Those are the qualities that Miss Day possesses; do you possess any of those qualities, Miss Page?"

She only stared at him for a moment, and then answered with her face turned to the judge. "Nobody's conventional anymore."

"Well, Miss Day is, and that's what makes her unique. She chooses to do things that are more conventional than others. Tell me, Miss Page," he said, coming back over and pulling some papers from a file folder, taking them and handing them to her. "Do you recognize these emails?"

She took the stack of paper, briefly looking through them, then handing them back to ADA Nolan. "No, I'm sorry, I don't."

"These are emails that we pulled from Miss Day's computer, and they were all sent from similar email addresses," he said as he handed the papers back to her, "and they were all yours."

"That must be some mistake –"

"Would you please read the first email?"

She swallowed, looking down at the paper, reading silently.

"Out loud, if you please, Miss Page."

"The email says, 'How many times did you have to sleep with Destler to get Belle?'"

"And the next one?"

She cleared her throat, then read, "You know that everyone hates your guts for what you're doing to Buquet. Why don't you just end it all?"

"And the next?"

She threw the emails down before him, the papers scattering across the floor. He looked down at the mess, and then looked back up at her before she spoke again. "What's your point? They all say the same thing, and they're all true! She should have just killed herself!"

"Because, Miss Page, Miss Day knows that she has something to live for. Unlike you, who feels so empty on the inside that she has to dress like that to get the attention of others."

"Objection!"

"No further questions," ADA Nolan said, as he cleaned up the papers, going back to sit down at his seat. Chrissy huffed, getting off of the stand and stomping in between the tables. She grabbed her things and turned back to look at me. Slinging her bag over her shoulder, she leaned in close to say something to me.

"You're fucked, Drama Queen. You know that they'll never convict him," she smirked, walking towards the door. "See you at school, little Sophie."

"Don't let the doors hit you in your fat ass on your way out," I replied loud enough for everyone in the courtroom to hear. What I didn't realize was that she had reached into her purse, getting a water balloon out and throwing it at me. It landed and popped on the back of my head and I shouted as I stood up, the water having soaked my hair and my back. She was standing by the doors as she smirked and I growled, moving to go after her. Unfortunately, Monsieur Destler grabbed ahold of me as the court officer escorted her out, holding me back from going after her.

"You'll have your chance at her later, Sophie," he said quietly, pulling back down into the bench. He took his jacket off, putting it around my shoulders. He glanced back at the doors, and then turned his attention back to the trial. Buquet's two character witnesses testified first, and then court was called for a lunch recess and would resume in the afternoon. Erik walked me out, leading me outside of the courtroom and into the hallway. "We should head back to the school. I need some help getting things ready for tonight's dress rehearsal. I'll give you a pass for your classes today."

I looked back at the courtroom doors, then back at Erik as ADA Nolan came up to us. Before I could reply, ADA Nolan spoke, his hand on my arm.

"I am so sorry that happened to you, Sophia. I'm going to make you a deal."

"And what deal is that, Mr. Nolan?"

"If you leave right now with Mr. Destler, and go back to school, I'll email you everything that Buquet says in court this afternoon."

"Do I have a choice in the matter?"

"No. Not after what Chrissy did to you. You need to be somewhere else other than that courtroom."

I sighed softly, nodding. "Okay, I'll go back to school. Monsieur Destler needs help setting up for the dress rehearsal tonight."

"See? That's a good thing; get your mind off of everything," he smiled, patting my arm. "It's going to be okay. I'll email you later."

He walked away after we said our goodbyes, and I turned my attention back to Monsieur Destler, looking up at him. He looked down at me, tucking some hair behind my ear. "Are you hungry," he asked, leading me down the stairs to leave.

"No, I'm not hungry. I just want to go back to school. Is that okay?"

"Of course," he said as we stepped outside, the warm May sun shining down on us. He walked us over to his car, helping me inside again just as he did the night before. He got into the driver's side, looking at the clock as he started the car. "It is lunch time. Let's take some time, and we'll be back at the school by 1:00pm."

I merely nodded, staring out of the window, closing my eyes for only a few moments while he drove. It didn't surprise me that he had classical music playing on his radio. I felt extremely relaxed as he drove, and then then I began to notice some unfamiliar surroundings. There were trees, and I could see the ocean as we drove down the path. We pulled up to a vacant beach and put the car in park, turning to look at me.

"You need some time to yourself, Sophia," he said softly, cupping my chin in his hand. "Go. Walk along the sand and the water. Relax. Get your mind off of the trial. For me."

I just smiled, taking my shoes and socks off, getting out of the car, feeling the warm sand between my toes. I began to walk along the warm sand, feeling the weight of the trial falling off of my shoulders. As I inched closer to the water, I let out a soft content sigh, feeling the cool water splashing against my feet and ankles. I turned to look behind me, seeing Monsieur Destler out of his car and leaning against the hood, watching me, his arms folded over his chest. I turned to him with a smile.

"You know what I've decided to do with my life, Erik," I asked, walking in the opposite direction I had come from.

"Enlighten me, my dear."

"I want to sing, professionally. I feel that is the path that I should choose. My scholarship is for Julliard, so it would be perfect, wouldn't it?"

I watched his smile grow, watching me as he walked down to join me. "If you chose that path, Sophie, I would be very proud of you. And I would come to every concert that you give."

I smiled softly, turning back to look at the sky and vast sea, sighing happily. "I feel that I'm destined for great things, Erik, especially after the other night when we sang together."

He took my hand, pulling me back to him. "You are destined for great things, Sophie. And I promise that I won't let anything stand in your way."

I smiled softly, leaning in and laying my head upon his shoulder. He chuckled warmly, slowly lifting my head, lightly pressing his soft lips to mine. I didn't hesitate, kissing him back gently as I placed my hands on his neck. I felt his arms wrap around me as he kissed me again, this kiss deeper than the others that he had given me before. I stood on the tips of the toes to match the deepness of his kiss when I kissed him back, but soon after, I felt myself being lifted higher and off of the ground, his arms wrapped strongly around me. I kissed him again as he walked us slowly back to his car, my hands tangled in his hair. He sat me down on the trunk of his car and he kissed me back, his hands slowly running down my curves. I leaned forward, placing small, delicate kisses on his neck, focusing around one area. I noticed by his sharp inhale that I must have been done something right. He pulled back, lifting my chin and kissing me again.

"Sophie, we shouldn't get too physical," he said softly, stroking my cheek softly. "Otherwise, they will know."

I nodded. "I'm not quite ready yet anyway," I said, hopping down off of the trunk and looking up at him, my body still close to his. "I'm not sure when I'll be ready."

"I told you, Sophie," he said, holding my hand in his, "I'll wait for you for as long as it takes. Will you do something for me, though?"

"I would do anything for you, Erik. You know that."

"Take the help that's being offered to you for counseling. It's going to help you so much. It's better to talk about it than to bury it."

"I will, Erik. I promise."

"Good girl," he smiled, kissing my forehead, as he walked back to the passenger of his car, opening the door for me and helping me back into the car. He got back into the driver's side, and drove us back to the school for the last couple of hours of the day and the final dress rehearsal before opening night.

I checked my voicemail while Monsieur Destler was waiting for me to finish putting my costumes away and finish dressing before he took me home. ADA Nolan had called me and told me in summary what all Buquet said. In short, he said that I had come onto him, and that I was making up the rape. He had laid him into the ground though, which made me feel better. Closing arguments would be held the next day, and then the case would go to the jury. Opening night was the day that the case would go to the jury. I wondering what could happen over the course of two days. I yawned softly, coming out of the dressing room and shutting the door. I looked up as I heard soft music playing, coming out to the stage. It took me a moment to recognize the song, and when I recognized it, I set my things down on the stage, putting my hands on my hips.

"Let me guess," I said as I looked around, not seeing Monsieur Destler anywhere. "You're the Beast, and I'm Belle, and you want to dance with me."

"No. On the contrary, my dear," said a voice in the air. I looked around, seeing only darkness. "I want you to sing."

I swallowed, feeling incredibly nervous. I suddenly felt like Christine and Erik was the Phantom. This was too much like my dreams. "I can't. My voice is tired, Monsieur."

"You dare to refuse your Angel," the voice asked with a slight annoyance in his tone, hearing footsteps throughout the auditorium.

"Erik, this isn't funny," I said with a tone of annoyance in my voice, grabbing my things, heading off the stage.

"How dare you defy me? I am your Angel of Music!"

"Erik, stop it!" I screamed, running out of the auditorium and out into the parking lot, panting as the doors of the auditorium closed. I felt someone's hand on my shoulder. I whipped around and screamed, seeing Monsieur Destler standing in front of me. His voice was mixed with confusion and sadness as he dropped his hand to his side. I sobbed, going to him, crying into his chest.

"Sophie, what's the matter? What happened?"

"Th-there was someone in the auditorium. I thought it was you, and…and…"

"Shh…come on, I'll take you home," he said, walking me to his car, helping me inside. He got into the driver's side, driving me home. "You're not going to be alone tonight; I'm staying at your house. I'll sleep on the couch. Do you understand?"

I just nodded, my mind dwelling on what had just happened in the auditorium. I closed my eyes as I wiped my tears, taking a few minutes to regain myself. I slowly brought my head up, looking at him as he drove. "I am so sorry that I screamed in your face, Erik. You just startled me, that's all."

"Yes, well, that's easy to imagine when you have a face like mine."

I blinked, and then looked at him with annoyance. "I have never screamed in your face, and I have never been terrified of you," I said, offended.

He didn't say anything more, stopping and parking at my house, helping me out of the car after he turned off the engine and got out on his side. I led the way to the house, opening the front door and letting him inside, not saying anything else to him. I went to the kitchen and took some meds to help me sleep, heading up to my room. We didn't speak another word for the rest of the night. I shut my bedroom door, and got ready for bed as normal, and then I check to see what the Paris Opera House had to say about the music. They were about to copy a piece of music and they had shipped it to me the same day. I was happy, but I could feel the meds kicking in, so I didn't spend very much time celebrating. I laid down, and feel into a deep sleep, wondering what kind of dreams I would be dreaming tonight.


	22. The Death of Buquet & Opening Night

I didn't have any dreams that night, or the next night. I believe that the sleeping pills that I took to help me sleep kept the dreams away, both the good and the bad. It was Friday, and the case had gone to the jury after the closing arguments were made on the day before. Monsieur Destler had stayed at my house to watch over me, sleeping on the couch. I was relieved to know that he was there to protect me if anything should happen, since my parents weren't there. I was excused from classes that day to help set up for the opening night of  _Beauty and the Beast_ , which was a good thing. My mind was going back and forth between what had happened in the trial and a couple of nights ago after the last dress rehearsal. Monsieur Destler was still not speaking to me, and I knew that I had probably ruined my chances with him after I screamed in his face. I had left the auditorium after I set the music on the stands down in the pit to get some water from my locker. I had seen Monsieur Destler staying backstage throughout the time that I was there. It was obvious that he was trying to avoid me. I didn't say anything to him as I left the auditorium, taking my time as I roamed the halls to my locker. I got my water and went back to the auditorium. As I looked through the windows of the doors, I noticed something dangling above the stage. I walked in, getting a closer look. It was a body, with a noose around its neck. As I moved to step forward, fearing the worst, until I saw who it was. And I released a blood curdling scream that echoed throughout the entire school.

It was Buquet.

I felt someone pull me to him, shielding my head into his chest as he gazed up at the body. I trembled and quivered as the body held me to him as teachers came running, gasping at the sight of the former principal hanging above the stage. The dreams had begun to haunt my reality, and I was losing it.

"What happened," the vice principal asked as she moved towards me and the person holding me after she shooed everyone away.

"I don't know. I was out of the auditorium, and so was she until just a few minutes ago," the familiar voice spoke as he held me. I let out a low sniffle. "She found the body."

"This girl has been through enough; she didn't need this too."

"I'll get her away from here. You call the police, and ADA Nolan. He'll want to know what has happened."

She nodded and ran out as he escorted me to the counselor's office. He could feel me trembling as he walked me down the hallway, holding me close to him as he put me inside the office, shutting the door. I couldn't believe it; I had seen my first dead body, and it was Buquet, just as it was in my dreams. The question was this: did he kill himself or did Erik kill him for me? I held myself on the couch, thinking about the performance tonight. Would it go on as planned, or would it be canceled because of what happened? I didn't want them to cancel it; I needed to perform. I wanted to perform. I laid on the couch, holding a pillow as I heard an announcement over the PA system come over, telling the students to stay in the classrooms that they were in and that the school was on lockdown until further notice. The counselor came in, shutting the door behind her sitting down at her desk.

"Would you like to talk about what happened," she asked softly, offering me a bottle of water.

"Are the police here yet?"

"Yes, they are here. They are currently interviewing Mr. Destler."

I slowly sat up from the couch, taking her bottle of water, opening it and drinking it down. "I've never seen a dead body before."

"Well, I'm sure that's pretty traumatic," she said, jotting some things down. "You've been through a rough couple of months lately. First, you had that accident while your class was in Paris, then Mr. Buquet began to molest you, you had the stress of the role of Belle for the musical, and then Mr. Buquet raped you."

"Yeah, tragedy and drama seem to follow me everywhere I go."

"Sophia, it is my opinion that you are burying the things that are traumatizing you. It's better to open up about them," she said, sipping at her coffee. "Now, let's talk about Mr. Buquet."

Just as I was about to say something, there was a knock at the door. She got up and answered it, seeing ADA Nolan on the other side. He asked to come in and speak to me alone. She nodded, leaving the room and letting him inside.

"I just found out; I was in court. Are you all right?"

"As well as could be expected," I replied, lying back down on the couch again. "How was court?"

"Well, not that it matters now, but the jury was back on your case. I found out about what happened before the verdict could be announced. I did talk to the foreman though; Buquet was going to be found guilty on all counts."

I looked at him, blinking for a moment. "Do you think that's why he did what he did? Do you think that he thought that there was no way out of it?"

"It's possible, but I wouldn't dwell on it, Sophia. Now, you can heal and you won't have to worry about him anymore."

There was another knock at the door and it was the same detective that was on my case. He must have been investigating Buquet's death. ADA Nolan let him in, sitting on the counselor's desk while the detective knelt in front of me.

"Sophia, I know that this isn't the best time, but I need to ask you some questions."

"You might as well ask them now while you have me here. I have nothing to hide."

"What happened this morning before you found Mr. Buquet's body?"

"I was helping set up for the opening night of our musical tonight with Monsieur Destler. I was out front and Monsieur Destler was in the back."

"Did you see Mr. Buquet come into the auditorium at all?"

"No."

"What happened next?"

"I stopped to get my bottle of water out of my locker, so I left the auditorium."

He nodded. "When you came back, that's when you found the body?"

"Yes."

"How long were you out of the auditorium?"

"At least five minutes."

He nodded again. "Right now, we're ruling his death a suicide. Mr. Destler's story is similar to yours. We'll be doing an autopsy to be sure. Thank you again for being so cooperative, Sophia."

I nodded, turning away from all of them. All I wanted was to be alone. I heard the door open and shut and I was left alone. I closed my eyes, thinking about the ocean that I saw yesterday. I smiled a little, thinking about how cool and kind it was, relaxing, washing everything away. I thought about it for a while, thinking about how I could leave the hurt and the past behind.

"Absolutely not," I heard an angry voice say in the office as I slowly came to. I must have fallen asleep. "We're not canceling the show tonight. My students have worked too hard to lose a night of performing especially opening night, and Sophia could use something to take her mind off of today."

"Erik, you have to understand the situation that occurred here today. I don't think that the students are up to performing tonight, and they definitely won't be up to performing when they find out that there was a suicide in the same auditorium where they will be performing in."

I slowly turned around, seeing the vice principal and Monsieur Destler talking about the show for tonight. I slowly sat up, stretching and yawning. They both turned around, looking at me.

"Sophia," Monsieur Destler spoke first, kneeling beside me. "Are you okay? How are you feeling?"

"I'm okay for the moment. What's this that you're talking about, canceling the show for tonight?"

"Well, we're considering it, Sophia," the vice principal spoke as she looked down at me and Monsieur Destler. "You've been through a lot this week; it's my opinion that you should take the night off and rest, but Mr. Destler feels differently."

"I believe that the show must go on, Sophia. We will continue the performance as normal, and then we will break the news to everyone about Mr. Buquet's death after the show. However, I will not cancel unless you feel like you cannot perform."

I looked up at the both of them, then looked at the vice principal. "I need to speak with Monsieur Destler, alone please."

She nodded, leaving the room and shutting the door behind her. We looked at each other, unsure of what to say. I wanted to tell him so many things, but I felt that the time wasn't right. I sat there quietly for a few minutes before I stood up from the couch, looking at my reflection in the mirror. I was staring at Sophia, but in a way, I was also looking at Christine. Christine, who was torn about what she should do, just like before with the performance of Don Juan. Monsieur Destler came up behind me, placing his hands on my shoulders, watching us in the mirror. He leaned down, kissing my cheek softly.

"You don't have to go on, Sophie," he said softly, pulling my hair back. "We can spend the night together and just relax. Not do anything but watch a movie or run through your lines. It's up to you."

I sighed softly, looking at him. "As nice as that sounds…it's probably not a good idea, not after today."

"The choice is yours, Sophie. I'm not going to force you to do anything that you don't want to do."

I looked down at the floor as his hands moved up and down my arms, then I looked up at the mirror, trying a little song of my own.

_Twisted every way, what answer can I give?_

I watched his face change from comforting to shock, taking a step back from me. I turned around, watching him back into the wall, his look of astonishment still planted on his face. I stepped forward, and he moved behind the desk. He was actually afraid of me…or was he afraid of what I was singing? I cleared my throat, moving back towards the door.

"I have a show to get ready for," I said with a smile, opening the door and leaving towards the auditorium. I met everyone there, and said, "Well, come on, everyone! We have a show to do!"

I ran out on stage for my curtain call, which was met with wild cheers and applause. I stood center stage, and took my curtsey in the beautiful, yellow ball gown. When I arose, Monsieur Destler smiled at me and signaled me to move to stage left and stage right to bow before my audience. I did so, and I have never felt so happy in my life. I rejoined the principles in the front row, Jay on my left and Drake on my right, taking their hands as we did took our bows. We gestured towards the orchestra, the lighting crew, and the stage hands that were backstage, thanking them for their service for us. We joined hands once more and took our final bows as the curtain dropped we all cheered. I hugged Jay, telling him that he was fantastic as Drake squeezed my hand, smiling at me. As everyone began to head to their proper dressing rooms, Monsieur Destler came backstage, holding a bouquet of beautiful red roses.

"Everyone, may I have your attention please," he instructed as everyone came back, standing in front of him. "First of all, what a fantastic opening night we had, right?" Everyone cheered and clapped, and he held up his free hand to silence everyone. "Secondly, everyone did a great job, and our star, Sophia Day, shined through so much that someone sent these to her to congratulate her on her opening night and in her first leading role of a musical. Miss Day, these are for you."

I stepped forward as everyone clapped and cheered, accepting the flowers and smelling them as I stepped back towards Drake and Jay, as he put up his hands to silence the cast and crew once again.

"Finally, I have some bad news that happened earlier today. We did not tell you before because wanted tonight to go on as we wanted it to." He took a breath, looking out into the sea of students. "Mr. Buquet committed suicide this morning –"

Gasps and cries emerged from the cast and crew, shocked at the devastating news of Buquet's death. I turned my head, seeing Chrissy begin to cry along with her clique. I rolled my eyes, heading back to the dressing room as Monsieur Destler continued to speak to the cast and crew about Buquet's death. I sat down at one of the tables in the dressing room, taking the card that was in with the bouquet of roses, and reading it.

_Sorry we couldn't be here for your big night, but we're sure that you did a fantastic job. We love you! – Mom and Dad_

I sighed softly, setting the bouquet beside me as I looked myself over in the mirror again. I had a feeling that wherever Christine was now, she was smiling and happy for me. I began to change, slowly working off the ball gown and eventually the hoop that went under it. As I changed, I began to reflect on the evening's performance. I thought I had done very well, especially considering the facts of what had happened earlier this week. I no longer felt burdened with the pain that was the events of what happened, but I realized that I still needed to open up about what I was feeling about the whole thing. As the girls began to flood in, I grabbed my things, starting to head out the door, only to be blocked in by Chrissy and her clique.

"Are you happy, you little diva bitch," she asked me, her hands on her hips as she attempted to star me down. "You got the lead, you got roses which were probably from Monsieur Destler, and now you will never have to worry about Buquet anymore because he's dead."

"Chrissy, get over yourself," I replied, trying to head for the door again, but the girl on her left blocked me in, playing with my flowers.

"Just answer my question," she said, taking my bouquet from me. "Are you happy?"

I watched her as she held my bouquet in my hands, playing with all of the petals of the roses as she waited for me to answer. "You know what," I said, taking my flowers back, pushing past the group and opening the door. I turned back to look at her as I spoke again. "First of all, the flowers were from my parents. Second, I am happy. I am the happiest that I have ever been in my life and the only reason why you're so bitter is because you're nothing but an empty shell who has to put out to everyone to even feel anything. And that is better than beating the shit out of you."

With that, I turned on my heel and left the dressing room, shutting the door behind me. Drake and Jay came running up to me, smiling.

"Hey, Sophie, we're heading out to get some late dinner," Drake said with a smile. "Do you want to come with us?"

I thought about it for a moment, looking at Monsieur Destler briefly before I answered. "No, thanks. I'm not really that hungry."

"Are you okay to be alone? I can come over later."

"No, I'll be okay, Drake. Really."

He nodded. "Be careful going home," he said, and then he and Jay took off. I walked over to Monsieur Destler, seeing that he was alone and no one was around.

"Will I see you in a few minutes?"

"Not tonight, Sophia. I have to get rest of my own."

"Oh," I said softly, feeling slightly disappointed that he wasn't going to be coming over. "Well, that's okay. I need to try and sleep tonight anyway."

He didn't say anything more as he continued to put the music away. Rather than waiting on him to say something, I turned around and left, walking home alone. It was a long walk, and I began to think about what had happened earlier between Monsieur Destler and I. I must have scared him more than he had scared me when he sang to me in the hallway outside of the courtroom. I took a couple of short cuts home, completely exhausted from the day. When I got to my front door, I saw a single white rose with a black ribbon tied around it. I picked it up, seeing that there was a card tied to the ribbon as well. I read it silently.

_Sophie, Sophie, don't think that I don't care…_

_You did very well tonight, my dear. I'm pleased with how far you've come. However, I feel that there are some secrets that will not remain buried for long. Meet me in my basement after Sunday's performance at 9:00pm. I love you._

_Yours,_

_Erik_

Secrets? What secrets could there be between us? Unless…the dreams. The dreams could have been the secret. The look of bewilderment on his face earlier that afternoon still haunted me. I let myself into my house, locking the door behind me. I went into the kitchen, getting some vases from under the sink. I placed my roses in one, filling the vase with water and placing it in the center of the island. As for the rose from Erik, I placed that in the other vase with some water and carried it up to my room, setting it on my dresser, and then changed for bed. I pulled my hair back into a ponytail before I lay down in my bed, my eyes heavy and tired. I closed them, sighing happily at the idea that I would no longer be hurt by Buquet, or by the haunting memories of what he had done to me. I drifted off into the darkness once again, feeling myself being pulled further and further below.


	23. Down Once More

**Down once more to the dungeons of my black despair! Down we plunge to the prison of my mind! Down that path into darkness deep as HELL!**

I felt myself being dragged down the corridor and pushed into the gondola as I watched the now revealed Phantom row us across the lake quickly. I looked up at him while he glared down at me, his voice and his face seething with anger as he sang once again.

**Why, you ask, was I bound and chained in his cold and dismal place? Not for any mortal sin, but the wickedness of my abhorrent face!**

I cringed as he sang to me. I hated his anger, and I didn't mean to make him so angry. All I wanted was to see his beautiful face. The gondola stopped and he jumped out onto the rocks, pulling me sharply out of the boat. Above us, I could hear the mob coming from him, chanting, 'Track down this murderer! He must be found!'

"Please stop, Erik! You're hurting me!"

He pulled me along and forced me down onto his bed, then left to get the wedding gown. Holding it in one hand and pushing me down with the other, he sang again.

**Hounded out by everyone, met with hatred everywhere! No kind words from anyone, no compassion anywhere! Christine…why? WHY?**

"I'm sorry! All I wanted was to see your face!"

He threw the wedding gown at me, and left the room, going out to the other part of his lair where he couldn't see me. I held it in my hands, realizing what I had to do. I stood up and quickly took the costume off from Don Juan, slowly pulling the wedding gown on. I buttoned the back of it on my own as I stared into the mirror. What was going to happen to me? Was he going to marry me? Was he going to kill me? I turned around, walking out into the part of the lair that he was in. He seemed fixated on something, but I couldn't see what.

_Have you gorged yourself at last in your lust for blood?_

He turned and looked at me, a small smile on his face as he saw me in the wedding gown. I looked at his hands and saw he was holding the veil that matched the gown. He panted softly, still watching me as I made my way down to him.

_Am I now to be prey to your lust for flesh?_

He walked towards me, slowly as not to startle me any more than he already had. He sang again, his voice more calm than what it was before, but I could still sense the anger within him.

**That fate which condemns me to wallow in blood, has also denied me the joys of the flesh…**

He touched my cheek and I flinched, stepping back from him. He sang again, still holding the veil in his hands.

**This face, the infection which poisons our love…this face, which earned a mother's fear and loathing, a mask, my first unfeeling scrap of clothing.**

He placed the veil upon my head, making sure it fit just right before he turned me to face him, holding onto my arms to keep me still.

**Pity comes too late! Turn around and face your fate! An eternity of this before your eyes…**

I stepped back from him, walking behind him to a mirror that had been covered up. I grabbed the cloth and slowly pulled it away, revealing his reflection. I dropped the cloth, turning back to look at him.

_This haunted face holds no horror for me now. It's in your soul where the true distortion lies…_

He went to take a step towards me until he heard movement in the water. His lips turned into an evil smirk as he looked at me, held his hand up and sang,

**Wait! I think, my dear, we have a guest!**

I turned my attention to the gate, seeing a soaked Raoul on the other side. I screamed his name, running to him, but I was caught by the Phantom's arm and he pulled me to him as he sang again.

**Sir, this is indeed an unparalleled delight! I had rather hoped that you would come! And now, my wish comes true; you have truly made my night!**

"Let me go!"

Raoul growled, reaching his arm through the bars of the gate, trying to find a way in.

Free her! Do what you like, only free her! Have you no pity?

**Your lover makes a passionate plea** , he sang to me in a mocking tone, lifting my chin to him. I turned to Raoul, shaking my head.

_Please, Raoul, it's useless!_

I love her! Does that mean nothing? I love her! Show some compassion!

**The world showed no compassion to me!**

Christine, Christine, let me see her.

**Be my guest, sir!**

The Phantom let me go as he pulled a lever. The gate lifted and Raoul went under. The Phantom began to walk over to him and when I had started to follow, he held his hand up at me to stop me. I stood frozen as I watched Raoul stop, watching the Phantom and I.

**Monsieur, I bid you welcome. Did you think that I would harm her? Why would I make her pay for the sins which are yours?**

The Phantom reached into the water and pulled out a noose and wrapped it around Raoul's neck. He gasped for air as I screamed, the Phantom moving to tie him to the gate, which was now down where it was before.

**Order your fine horses now! Raise up your hand to the level of your eyes! Nothing can save you now, except perhaps Christine!**

He finished tying Raoul to the gate, holding onto the other end of the rope that was around his neck, turning back to face me.

**Start a new life with me! Buy his freedom with your love! Refuse me, and you send your lover to his death! This is the choice! THIS IS THE POINT OF NO RETURN!**

I let out a shuddering breath, tears flooding my eyes as I sang.

_The tears I might have shed for your dark fate grow cold and turn to tears of hate!_

The Phantom growled, returning his attention to Raoul, readjusting the ties.

Christine, forgive me, please forgive me!  
 _Farewell, my fallen idol and false friend!  
_ **Too late for turning back!  
** I did it all for you and all for nothing…  
 _We had such hopes and now those hopes are shattered!_  
 **Too late for useless pity!**

Say you love him ( **Past all cries for help** ) and my life is over ( **No point in fighting**!)!  
 **For either way you choose he/you has/cannot win!**

**So do you end your days with me? Or do you send him to his grave?**

Why make her lie to you to save me?

The Phantom pulled on the rope, starting to choke Raoul as I began to sing again, tears rolling down my cheeks.

**Past the point of no return…  
** _Angel of Music…  
_ For pity's sake, say no Christine!  
 _Why this torment?  
_ **The final threshold…  
** Don't throw your life away for my sake!  
 **His life is the prize which you must earn!  
** _Why do you curse mercy?  
_ I fought so hard to free you…  
 _Angel of Music…_  
 **You've passed the point of no return…**

_You've deceived me. I gave you my mind blindly!_

The Phantom glared at me, the cold sneer on his face unchanging. "You try my patience. Make your choice!" He pulled on the rope once more and Raoul let out a gasp of air, looking at me. My heart was tearing in two. Do I choose the Phantom, the one who taught me to sing, or do I choose the love of my life who has cared for me for so long? I looked at them both as I stepped down into the water. My attention was on the Phantom as I walked, singing softly.

_Pitiful creature of darkness, what kind of life have you known? God give me courage to show you, you are not alone!_

I wrapped my arms around him and kissed his lips deeply. I heard the rope splash into the water as he slowly moved his hands to my waist. I pulled back and gazed up at his face, his beautiful face. And I saw tears. I hugged him tightly, and then I moved my hands to his face, cupping it gently as I kissed him again, pulling him as close as I could as I held the kiss. After a few moments, he pulled away, sniffling, crying quietly. Above, we could hear the mob growing closer and closer, singing, "Track down this murderer! He must be found!" He gently pushed me away, turning to Raoul.

**Take her, forget me, forget all of this!**

I looked at Raoul, and then ran over to untie him from his prison, taking the rope off of his neck first before I began working the rope binding his arms.

**Leave me alone! Forget all you've seen! Go now! Don't let them find you! Take the boat swear to me never to tell the secret you know of the angel in Hell!**

I got Raoul free, who quickly embraced me as we both turned back to look at the Phantom who was panting heavily, hearing the mob getting closer and closer.

**GO NOW! GO NOW AND LEAVE ME!**

He ran back into the deepest cavern of his lair. I reached for him, and Raoul pulled me back. "What are you doing," he asked. "They're going to kill him when they find him, Christine. We don't need to be down here."

"Get the boat ready," I replied. "I'll be there soon," I said, moving through the water and back to the stairs, walking up them and going into the deepest cavern. I followed the chime of the music box, hearing a soft voice singing along to its familiar chimes.

**Masquerade…paper faces on parade. Masquerade…hide your face so the world will never find you…**

I smiled softly as I watched him. He sensed that I was there. He slowly turned around, watching me. I slowly pulled off my ring as I walked over to him, placing it in his hand. He gently closed his hand around mine, looking up at me with soft, apologetic eyes. They were the eyes that I had grown to love: eyes that showed beauty, wonder, and above all love. He slowly lifted my hand, kissing it ever so softly as I let out a small sob. He looked up at me, tears in his eyes as well as he sang.

**Christine…I love you…**

I let out another sob, leaning my head down to kiss his hand before I slowly released my hand from his. I left my ring in his hand as I slowly began to walk away. I quickly moved down the stairs and Raoul helped me into the gondola, slowly rowing us away from the Phantom's lair.

_Say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime…  
_ Say the word and I will follow you…  
 _Share each day with me, each night, each morning…_

I glanced back at the Phantom one last time as we turned in the lake, hearing him sing his final words to me.

**You alone can make my song take flight…IT'S OVER NOW THE MUSIC OF THE NIGHT!**

The mob came down through the lake and into the Phantom's lair. I hid my eyes into Raoul's back, feeling dizzy as he stopped the boat to check on me. I could feel myself growing more dizzy which each passing second and I collapsed in Raoul's arms. I felt myself being laid down in the boat and we continued on our way. The Phantom was gone. The music was done. And I realized…that I had been there.


	24. The Visit of Christine Daae

I had awoken from the dream on Saturday morning, feeling like a completely different person. I felt whole, wanted, and loved all at the same time. I realized from the dream that not only did Christine choose Raoul, but she loved both Raoul and the Phantom. I began to question my feelings for Drake and Monsieur Destler, wondering if I was making the right choices for me. I looked in the mirror, and it seemed like Christine was on the other side. I rubbed my eyes, looking at the rose from Monsieur Destler. Then I turned my head again and I gasped, seeing the young Christine Daae standing before me. She looked exactly like me, with her long brown curls down and she was in the same wedding gown that I had just had on in my dream. She smiled at me, her beautiful brown eyes glistening as she folded her hands in front of her. She truly looked like an angel.

"Hello, Sophia," she spoke softly, smiling at me still.

I shuddered, falling out of my bed as I stared up at her heavenly form. "Please, tell me I'm not losing it. Please tell me that this is still a dream that I'm having."

She chuckled warmly, watching me. "Yes, you are still dreaming. I came to visit you. Please, sit down on your bed."

I slowly pulled myself back up into my bed, watching her as she watched me.

"You have grown so much since Paris, Sophia. You have made me proud."

"You know about Paris?"

"I know about everything that you have done, the good and the bad."

"Why was I having those dreams?"

"Because you needed my guidance, Sophia, and I'm sure that you've noticed that you are me in a new form. You have been struggling for a while, Sophia. Just has I had struggled when I was your age."

"How did you know that I was struggling?"

"I've always watched over you. I suppose that you could say that I was your guardian angel. I saw the struggle in your eyes and face, and I heard it in your voice when you sang. I had originally planned to send you my memories in the form of dreams when I felt you were ready. However, when you had that accident in Paris that was completely by fate and you began to have the dreams on your own."

"Christine, do you feel that you made the right choice? Did you make the right choice when you had to choose between the two men who you loved most in your life?"

"I cannot answer that, for I was with both of them, and I loved them both. You will find out in due time which choice will be right for you."

I nodded softly, looking up at her again. "I have to ask…even though I'm you in a new form, are we related?"

She nodded. "If I were alive in this world, I would have been the original matriarch of your family. My son, Gustave, and his family came over to America in the 1920s, fifteen years after I died. When he came over, the name Daae became Day. So, I would have been your great-great-great grandmother."

"My teacher, Monsieur Destler –"

She smiled. "Our families have found each other once again."

I blinked. "What?"

She shook her head. "You will find out in time. Now, I have something that I would like you to do for me, Sophia."

"I would do anything to make you happy, Christine."

She smiled, walking forward and taking my hand in hers, kneeling down before me. She sang softly, placing her hand over my chest.  _Look with your heart, and not with your eyes. The heart always knows; the heart never lies…_  I felt drowsy, so I lay back down again as her voice rang in my ears.

I slowly opened my eyes, blinking slowly as I looked around my room. No heavily figures; just me, in my room, all alone. I thought about what I had heard in my visit from Christine. "Look with your heart, and not with your eyes," I repeated softly, placing my hand over my heart. I looked over at the rose that I gotten from Monsieur Destler, then my eyes traveled to the photographs of Drake and I that still graced the room. I got up, looking around, trying to decide what to do. I walked down the stairs, stretching as I walked into the kitchen to make myself some coffee. While I was waiting on the coffee, I stepped outside to get the paper, seeing a package for me beside it, direct from Paris. I carried that, along with the paper inside. I smiled softly, opening the package first. Inside was a note, which I read first.

_Dear Miss Day,_  
 _We were able to find this piece of music from the time that Christine Daae was at our Opera House and we were able to copy it. This piece is entitled Think of Me from the opera, Hannibal. We hope that you enjoy singing it._  
 _Yours,  
_ _The Curators of the Paris Opera House_

I set the note beside the box, slowly lifting the music out of the box, reading over it. It was the same song that Christine had sung when she was practicing with the Phantom. I smiled happily, setting both things back into the box, setting it aside as I got a cup of coffee. I sat at the island, looking at the paper first. The front page headline read ' _Former Principal Commits Suicide_.' Below the headline, the subtitle read, ' _Body was found above the stage in school's auditorium_.' I couldn't bear to read the article, so I skipped over it, moving to the next section of the paper. What I found on the front page of the second section surprised me even more. There were pictures of me, Drake, Jay, and the rest of the cast from the previous night's performance of Beauty and the Beast, and it was a rave review. Alone, I had one of the biggest pictures as I sang the Belle (reprise). There was also a picture of Jay and me dancing the waltz, and Drake and the cast during Gaston. I read the review after looking at the pictures, my smile getting bigger and bigger. The article boasted me, saying that I was biggest voice and the biggest talent to grace the cast and the school. The article went on to boast Monsieur Destler, saying that his talent of music and directing made this production shine above all of the other past musicals that we had done. The article continued with its wonderful comments, ending with one last comment about me. It read: We are expecting great things from Miss Day, and we know that she will be one of the greatest talents that this city has ever seen. I smiled happily as I sipped at my coffee, hearing a knock at the door. I got up, going to answer it. When I opened the door, I saw Drake, holding his copy of the newspaper.

"Congratulations, Miss Day," he said as he picked me up in his arms and spinning me around. "You are a star!"

I laughed as he picked me and spun me around, getting him to put me down so I could invite him inside. "You don't look too bad yourself with that picture in the paper," I said as I walked into the kitchen, pouring him a cup of coffee. He sat down on the opposite side of the island as I handed him his cup, sitting down on the other side.

"Did you see the other article about Buquet the Perv?"

I looked back at the paper, then back at Drake, sipping at my coffee. "I saw it; haven't read it. I don't know why I should have to read it when I was the one who found the body."

He coughed, choking on his coffee. I grabbed a towel, handing it to him so he could clean it up. "Why didn't you tell us that you found the body?"

"You don't need that mental image in your mind, believe me."

"Sophie, what happened?"

I sighed, getting up from the island to refill my coffee. "I don't want to talk about it, okay? I'm happy that asshole is dead, and that's all there is to it."

"You're burying things again," he said, getting up and coming over to me. "You have to talk about this, Sophia."

"Why can't I talk about it when I'm ready?"

He sighed, backing off, sitting back down in his original seat. I started laughing softly, sipping at my coffee. "What is it," he asked, looking at me with an eyebrow raised.

"It's nothing. I was just thinking about this dream that I had this morning."

"Another Christine Daae dream?"

"Yeah, in the flesh. She came to me in my dream this morning."

"Did she have anything important to say?"

"Are you ready for this? She's my great-great-great grandmother, and I'm her in a new form. She did give me some advice though."

"Oh, yeah? What was that?"

"She told me to look with my heart."

"What does that mean?"

"I wish I knew. I guess I'll figure that out when the time comes."

He nodded, looking at me. "Sophie, I have to tell you something."

"What is it, Drake?"

"I've decided to go to school for Business Management."

"That's great, Drake. I'm happy for you."

"I was wondering, if there was any chance, if you became famous, if you would hire me as your manager."

I smiled at thought, looking at him. "Let's get to college first, and see how things go, okay?"

"I love you."

I blinked, swallowing a big gulp of my coffee. "It's been a while since I have heard that come out of your mouth."

"I know. I just…I thought that you should know that I do love you, even if you don't anymore."

"I still love you, but I need time, okay? I don't know what I'm going to do yet; that's why we decided to take a break.

He nodded, getting up and putting his coffee cup in the sink, kissing the top of my head. "I'll see you tonight," he said softly, grabbing his paper and leaving. I sighed softly. Now what was I going to do? They both loved me, but what would happen if I chose one over the other. I cleaned up the mess, and then got ready to go to the auditorium.

I stood outside of the counseling center after the performance, staring at the sign for group therapy times. I took a breath, going inside. I followed the hallway, finding a room with chairs in a circle and other women in the room. The women ranged from my age to mid-thirties. I set my bag down, going to get a cup of coffee. I felt someone tap me on the shoulder and I turned around, my jaw dropping. It was Chrissy, but this wasn't the Chrissy that I was used to seeing. This was a different Chrissy; a softer and more gentle Chrissy, someone who looked like they needed a friend.

"First night," she asked me softly, her hands moving sheepishly into her pockets as she looked at me, then down at her shoes.

I nodded. "You?"

"Yeah. I got to thinking about what you said and you were right."

"Chrissy, I –"

"No, please. Hear me out. Sophie, I was so jealous of you because you had the attention of Destler and Drake. You have such a huge talent and I know that I will never go beyond this city, unfortunately as much as I want to. I was an empty shell, and I did put out to anything that came my way. The only person who would give me attention was James Buquet, and I realized after he died that he was hurting me just like he was hurting you. The only thing was that it was going on for a long time with me, and it was with different people other than James. So, I want to say that I'm sorry for how I have treated you, especially with this musical, and for being a huge bitch."

"I accept your apology, Chrissy."

"All right, everyone, let's get started."

We moved over to the chairs, Chrissy and I sitting together. The therapist sat in a chair, and you knew that it was her because she had her legal pad. "We have a couple of newcomers tonight. Who would like to introduce themselves first?"

I stood up, clearing my throat, looking out at the other women.

"My name is Sophia, and I was a victim of rape."


	25. Secrets Revealed

It was Sunday, the day of the final performance of Beauty and the Beast. It was an afternoon performance, and we had fifteen minutes until the start of the show. I put the final touches on my make-up, making sure my hair was just right as I looked at my reflection in the vanity's mirror. I caught a glimpse of Chrissy, who smiled at me in the mirror, then went back to making sure her costume was on just right. I smiled a little, happy that we were finally on some common ground, even if we weren't friends. I got up from the vanity and left the dressing room, shutting the door behind me. I wandered backstage for a moment, and then made my way to the curtains. I pulled one back slightly and gazed out at the audience. It was a packed house; not an empty seat in sight. For the first time all weekend, I grew nervous as I stepped away from the curtain, letting it fall back into its place.

"Jesus, what a crowd," I said softly, backing up and bumping into someone. "Oh, I'm so sorry," I said. I looked up and saw that I had bumped into Erik. He looked down at me, and then glanced at the curtain as if he was looking out at the audience.

"We're sold out today," he said softly, placing his hands on my shoulders to turn me around, putting me face to face with the curtain once more. "It doesn't surprise me. Not after that article about our production in yesterday's paper."

"I'm nervous, for the first time all weekend."

"I am too," he said, then leaned down to whisper something in my ear. "I'm breaking the news to everyone in a couple of minutes. They will all know that I'm leaving after graduation in three weeks."

I turned, looking up at him. "You can't wait until after?"

"No, I'd rather not prolong it anymore. Besides, you are all going out for dinner after the show, and I don't want to bring everyone's moods down."

"Well, if anyone's sad about it the most, it's going to be me."

"Just remember to channel those emotions that you're feeling into your acting and your singing," he said as everyone began to flood out of the dressing rooms. "Go warm up," he told me, before calling over the cast and crew over to talk to them.

I retreated to the dressing room, shutting the door behind me and I began to warm up. I sang my scales lightly and softly so my voice wouldn't flood his out. However, I stopped my warm-ups as I heard everyone protest against Erik and his announcement for leaving. I cleared my throat and stepped out of the dressing room, seeing him standing up on a chair and looking down at the casts, holding his hands up to quiet them down. "I am leaving for my own personal reasons, ladies and gentlemen. I have decided that there is nothing left for me here, and I want to move on." He glanced back at me before he spoke again, lowering his hands to his side. "Please, don't let this announcement flood your emotions too much. Remember to channel it into your acting and your singing and your acting. Now, let's get out there and have a great final performance!" He stepped down from the chair as everyone scattered to their places. I went to mine, standing still and breathing slowly. I felt his presence behind me. He gently placed his hands on my arms, leaning down to whisper in my ear. "Are we still on for tonight?"

I nodded, having almost forgotten about the whole thing. "I'll be there at 9:00, just like you asked me to be."

I felt his small smile against my earlobe, kissing it softly. I quivered a little at the feel of his lips. He drew the curtain back just slightly, enough so I could see the crowd once more. "They are all here for you, Sophie. Only for you."

I smiled, putting my head down as he moved the curtain back. He left me there, going out and greeting the audience, just as he did every night. He finished speaking, and took his place in the front. The lights went down, and the music began once again.

It was the final battle scene between Jay and Drake as I made my entrance on the stage, pleading them to stop. Drake seemingly surrendered to Jay and Jay turned his attention to me, reaching for my hand. As I placed my hand in his, Drake stabbed Jay in the back. Jay let out a fierce roar of pain, pushing Drake off of the balcony. I ran up the stairs as Drake let out a yell and Jay fell to the floor. I took his hand, placing my other hand on his face. He looked up at me, his back to the audience, speaking his line.

"You came back…"

"If only I had come sooner…"

"Maybe…its better…it's better this way."

"Don't talk like that. You'll be all right. Everything's going to be fine."

He raised his claw to my face, gently stroking my cheek. Something was happening to me. I could feel the tears forming in the back of my eyes. Damn it, I thought as I tried to blink them away, I didn't want this to happen, especially during the last performance. I blinked once more to block the tears in, I didn't blink fast enough. A single tear fell on Jay's cheek. He glanced up at me with an eyebrow raised, speaking his last line.

"At least…I got to see you…one last time…"

I swallowed the lump in my throat that had begun to form as I placed my hand on his, singing to him, but my eyes were on Erik. I knew he had seen my tears; I could tell by the look on his face. I took a breath as he gave me my cue and I began to sing.

_We are home_  
 _We are where we shall be forever_  
 _Trust in me_  
 _For you know I won't run away_  
 _From today_  
 _This is all that I need_  
 _And all that I need to say is…_  
 _Don't you know how you changed me_  
 _Strange how I finally see_  
 _I've found home_  
 _You're my home  
_ _Stay with me…_

Jay dropped his hand from my face, signaling to me that he had died. I gently grabbed hold of the cloak that he was wearing, gently shaking him as I desperately pleaded with him as I spoke my lines. "No! No, please! Please, don't leave me!" My eyes traveled up to Erik as I said the final line.

"I love you…"

I lowered my head onto Jay's body, hearing the music that the last petal had fallen from the rose. I sniffled softly, wiping my eyes discreetly on the cloak. The Transformation music began to play and I helped Jay removed the claw from his hand, discreetly placing it beside him as I got up, making my way to the bell jar. I looked up at Erik, and he looked at me with a small smile. I turned my focus back to the bell jar as the music began to swell and Jay began to stir, preparing for his entrance in human form. I let out a low sigh, my mind traveling between dreams, Christine, the Phantom, Erik and me. I heard the crowd gasp as Jay stood and turned to face the audience in his human form. He slowly made his way over me, placing his hand on my shoulder. I slowly turned around, softly gasping and placing my hand over my mouth. He took my hand away from my mouth, holding it and stepping closer as he sang.

_Belle, look into my eyes_  
 _Belle, don't you recognize_  
 _The beast within the man  
_ _Who's here before you_

"It is you!" I threw my arms around Jay as he hugged me and spun me around. He slowly lowered me down to the ground and kissed me. Even though it was a staged kiss, cheers and applause erupted throughout the auditorium. The human forms of the servants came out on stage next, and we finished the first part of our final scene. We went backstage and began our quick changes, Jay putting on his jacket as I went behind the screen with Annie and Chrissy so they could help me put the ball gown on. We quickly put it on and made sure that it was on correctly before I rejoined Jay at his side, taking his arm.

"Are you okay," he asked me in a whisper as we watched the scene, waiting for our cue. I nodded at him as Erik cued us to come out. We walked out slowly to the center of the stage, and began to dance the waltz. As the ensemble came out, the audience began to cheer. We sang the finale as Jay and I walked up to the balcony once more and the curtain dropped. Everyone scattered to their proper places backstage. Drake greeted me with a hug and Jay squeezed my hand as we took our places backstage.

"Why were you crying," he asked as the curtain rose and the ensemble went out to take their bows.

"To be honest, I have no idea," I replied with a laugh, smiling. But I did have an idea. No, more like a reason. I just didn't want to admit it. I looked out as the castle servants took their bows, then Drake and the boy who played LeFou took their bows together, and then Jay. Finally, there was me. I watched as the cast split in half and I cut through behind them, stopping at center stage facing the audience. Everyone was standing, cheering, and applauding, and it was all for me. I made my way to the front, curtseying center stage first, followed by stage left and stage right. When I rejoined the rest of the cast, they didn't join hands with me like they should have. Instead, two stage hands came out with two bouquets of roses, one with white roses and the other with yellow roses. I smiled, beaming with pride as I took another curtsey to the audience, looking up at Erik, who just winked at me. And I knew that one of the bouquets were from him. I bowed with the cast, saluting the pit, stage hands, and lighting crew before bowing again and watching the curtain drop. As everyone scattered to be the first ones back to the dressing room to change, someone caught my arm. It was a reporter from the local newspaper, wanting to interview me. I happily accepted, but it was not the interview that I was hoping to have.

"So, tell me about Buquet's death," he started after pressing the record button his tape recorder. "What was it like for you? Did you feel relieved now that he's dead?"

"I…I don't feel comfortable talking to you about that at this present time," I said simply, turning on my heel and walking towards the dressing room.

"Is it true that you were the one who found his body?"

"No comment," I said again, beginning to walk a little faster as he followed me, trying to get me to answer him.

"Was his death a murder or a suicide? Did you know that he was going to be found guilty? Come on, Miss Day! I'm on a deadline here!"

Just as I was about to say something, I heard the reporter gasp and gag. I turned around and saw Erik squeezing his throat, slowly lifting him off of the ground to face him. The reporter's eyes were wide as he looked at Erik, pressing stop on his tape recorder and placing his hands over Erik's wrist.

"I believe the lady said 'no comment,' sir," he said coolly and quietly, staring the reporter down as he looked fearfully at Erik's face.

"Hey man, I've got a job to do, and our readers –" He gasped again for air. I saw Erik's hand gripping his throat even tighter.

"If you don't leave now, I will make sure that you won't leave here alive. Do you understand me?"

The reporter nodded hastily, and Erik dropped him. I watched him as he breathed and coughed a couple of times, and then got up, running out of the auditorium. Erik turned me, his hands slowly sliding into his pockets. I looked at him, and there was only one thing that I could think of to say to him.

"Thank you."

He just nodded, and walked away, resuming his work back down in the pit. I went into the dressing room, putting my flowers on the vanity as I began to change and gather my costumes to return to Annie.

We were all at dinner later that night. My body was there, but my mind was not. My mind was wandering back and forth between the friends that I had around me and the one person that I would be seeing alone in a matter of hours. I didn't eat much, thinking about what his card had said. Secrets that wouldn't remain buried for long…what could that mean? I pushed my plate away and looked at my wristwatch, seeing that it was 7:00pm. I laid some money on the table, saying my goodbyes to Drake and Jay, then left the pizza parlor, walking home. My mind was also wandering back to what the reporter had asked me. Was I relieved that Buquet was dead? Was his death a murder or a suicide? I shook my head, trying not to dwell on it as I arrived at my house, going up to my room after I shut the door to find something else to wear. For some reason, something was telling me that this shouldn't be a jeans and a t-shirt kind of visit. I rummaged through my closet, finding a sundress that I hadn't worn yet. It was brand new, white and knee length, with a black ribbon that was around the waist to tie in the back. I looked at it for a few minutes, smiling softly at the thought of Christine wearing something like this. I threw it on my bed, finding flip-flops to match after I stripped off my jeans and my t-shirt. I put the sundress on, zipping up the back, and tying the ribbon. I looked at myself in the mirror, smiling softly as I turned to look back at the clock, seeing that it was now 8:45pm. I did the final look over as I slipped on my flip-flops, quietly leaving my empty home and walking to his. The warm night air felt good against my skin as I walked at an even pace, hearing a piano being played in the distance. I smiled, knowing it was him who was playing. I picked up the pace a little and I got closer to his house, growing more and more excited to see him. When I finally arrived, I went around to the back of the house, moving toward the back door. He must have seen my feet through the windows because the music ceased and the piano bench scooted away from it. I opened the door and I was immediately pulled inside, greeted with Erik's soft lips against mine as he pulled me in for a deep kiss.

The kiss took me completely by surprise as I closed my eyes. My hands slowly found their way to his neck as he held the kiss. His arms found their way to my waist, and I felt myself being slowly lifted off of the ground as he pulled back for air. I smiled softly, my hair dangling slightly in front of my eyes as I leaned in and kissed him back, softly and just as deeply as he did to me. After a few moments, he slowly lowered me back to the ground, pulling back and looking down at me with a smile as he brushed my hair out of my eyes.

"Well, that's one hell of a hello," I said softly, looking up at him as he slowly pulled away, holding my hand and looking me up and down. He chuckled at my comment, slowly leading me to the basement.

"You look beautiful, and you were fantastic this afternoon," he said, then pulled me close again, cupping my chin in his hand. "Be honest with me. Were you crying up there on stage? Were you crying because of me?"

I nodded foolishly, going to sit down on the piano bench, crossing my legs as I looked up at him. "I guess I had an unexpected flood of emotions that I wasn't counting on. My mind was racing between you, prom, graduation, me leaving for school, and your card. I can't get what your card said out of my mind. What secrets could be between us, Erik?"

He sighed softly, getting a chair and moving it in front of me, sitting down. "I guess there's no point in prolonging it any longer," he said softly, taking my hand. As I entwined my fingers with his, he began to speak. "Sophie, I wasn't entirely honest with you when I told you about my family history in Paris. I am a descendant of Erik Destler, the Phantom of the Opera. This…thing on my face is a hereditary deformity that ran in my family on his side and when I was born, I was the first one in my family to be born with it in over fifty years. What I told you about my mother and father was true; she gave me up and I was placed in foster care. I never knew my father. I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner; I didn't think that it was appropriate with everything that had happened. I'm sorry for being so secretive with you."

I smiled softly, kissing him gently as I rested my forehead against his. "I have secrets of my own, Erik. I'm a descendant of Christine Daae. Ever since the accident at the Opera House, I have been having dreams that I'm her, back in time, you are the Phantom of the Opera, and Drake is the Vicomte Raoul de Changey. I went through her memories of that time, Erik, every single memory. Her first aria, the death of Buquet, her struggles with her feelings for the Phantom and Raoul, and there was even one dream where we were practicing this song for your opera that you wrote and…" I stopped, and had begun to laugh, my cheeks turning a dark crimson as I pulled away, placing my hand over my mouth. He chuckled softly, his eyes glistening as if he knew what I wanted to say, but knew I couldn't bear to speak it out loud. "Well, let's just say that it got pretty physical," I concluded, looking at him. Much to my surprise, he leaned in, kissing my lips softly, resting his forehead against mine, his eyes closed.

"I knew it."

"You knew what?"

"I knew that you were having the dreams too."

I gasped softly, standing up from the piano bench to look at me. He slowly stood, looking at me as he calmly put his hands in his pockets. "You knew, and you didn't tell me?"

"How could I tell you, Sophie? For so long, I have had the dreams and Christine would just be an image that I would only be reaching for distantly. Every time I fell asleep, she would return. Then, there was one night, in my dreams when I went to gather Christine for her lesson, and there you were, asleep in her bed. There wasn't just a spirit there any longer; it was you and I was calling you Christine."

I let out a shaky breath, taking this all in. "I can't believe this. What can it mean?"

He slowly reached out, taking my hand in his once more, entwining our fingers. "I think we're destined to be together. No matter what, we'll always find each other."

I smiled at the thought, looking up at him. "You know that I need time, Erik. Just give me some time."

"I will. You know I will. Sophie…there's something else that I need to tell you too."

"What is it, Erik," I asked softly, my fingers gently playing with his.

"I helped Buquet to his death."

My eyes widened. I dropped his hand from mine. I could feel the color draining rapidly from my face. I took a step away from him, backing away slowly. He took one step towards me, and then stopped, looking at me. "You killed him…"

"Yes…"

"You're a murderer."

"Hardly, my dear," he replied coolly, placing his hands upon the piano, watching me as I continued to slowly back up to the stairs. His eyes were cold and heartless, just as the Phantom's once were in my dreams. "I merely pushed him off of the catwalk. He put the noose around his own neck."

"I…I can't bear this…"

"Sophia, don't run away from me…"

"I-I'm sorry," I said softly, making a run up the stairs and bolting out the door, taking off in a dead run to my house. I could hear him calling my name, beckoning me to come back to him, but I couldn't. I kept running until I got to my house, slamming the door shut and locking it. I backed up into the living room, looking at the door, thinking he was going to barge in. I crouched on the floor, breathing heavily, soon realizing that he didn't follow me. My mind began to reel; how was I going to handle this? There was so much in my head; what was going to happen to him if they found out that he murdered Buquet? What was going to happen to us now, with prom and graduation only weeks away?

The bigger question was…who was I going to choose now? Drake or Erik?


	26. Masquerade & Think Of Me

The next two weeks passed quickly, and it was the night of Prom. I agreed to go with Drake, since we had already made plans to go together while we were still a couple. I got into my pink gown with help from my mom, having to wear a hoop under it because the skirt of the gown was enormous and had a small train with it. As I looked in the mirror, I saw myself as Christine once more. The dress reminded me of the one that she wore to the masquerade ball for the New Year, and how beautiful it looked on her. When Drake got there, I came down the stairs, slowly so I wouldn't trip. Mom was snapping pictures with her camera left and right. I didn't tell her that Drake and I broke up. I looked at him curiously when I saw that he had to masks in his hand, one was silver with some sequins and was in the shape of a butterfly and the other was just a simple black mask. He helped me with my corsage as Mom continued to snap pictures, and I discreetly rolled my eyes.

"Drake, what are those for," I finally asked as he helped me the rest of the way down the stairs. He looked at me, eyes wide as he put the butterfly mask on me, and then laughed.

"Don't tell me you forgot what the juniors planned for our prom," he said, laughing still as he put on his mask. "The theme is Masquerade."

I felt the color drain from my face as I looked at him. With everything that had happened in the last couple of weeks, I not only had forgotten about Prom, but I had forgotten it's theme as well. I looked at myself in the mirror again, swallowing nervously as I looked at my reflection. It didn't seem real; I pinched myself to make sure that I wasn't dreaming. And I wasn't.  _Shit_ , I thought, a  _Masquerade themed Prom. How awesome is that? And if I know Erik, he's going to be one of the chaperones, jumping at the chance to see me once more._

Erik and I hadn't spoken since the night in his basement after the final performance of  _Beauty and the Beast_. In the two weeks that I hadn't spoken to him, Buquet's autopsy revealed that it was a suicide, and he was buried at a quiet funeral service. Even though we both knew the truth, we didn't dare speak of it. I felt bad that I wasn't speaking to him, but I couldn't face him after I knew the truth. For me, he was too much like the Phantom that he had descended from. He was the cold and heartless Phantom, not the Phantom that was caring and compassionate to me. Drake pulled me outside and helped me into his car, the skirt of my gown barely fitting into it as he shut the door. He got in on the driver's side, driving off down our street towards the hall that had been rented for our Prom.

"I think you look beautiful tonight," he said softly, reaching over to take my hand. I slowly opened mine, his hand fitting perfectly with it. However, something didn't feel right. "I guess this is as good of a time as any. I have something that I want to say to you."

"And what's that?"

"I want you back, Sophia. I miss you. If you love me, please say that you'll have me back."

I thought about it for a moment, thinking about if things were going to be different now that Buquet was gone, the trial was over, and so was the musical. Then, I thought about something else, sighing softly. It was time to come completely clean if we were going to get back together. "I'm going to tell you something that I want you to take into consideration before you ask me that question again."

"You can tell me anything. You know that."

"I might as well brace myself because you're going to slam on the breaks," I said, putting my hands on the dashboard. "I kissed Monsieur Destler."

Just as I predicted, the car came to a halting and screeching stop. I lurched forward, the seatbelt and my hands catching my weight as he threw the car into park, turning and looking at me. "You did what? How could you do that to me?"

 

"Okay, first off," I began, turning and facing towards him, my voice angry and hard, "you were always jealous of him for no reason. At one time, I cared for him only as my teacher, but something changed between us and we just couldn't deny it. So if anything, the kisses, which there were three by the way, just happened and I would be thankful that we didn't have sex. He said it himself in court; I was the only adult in my life that I could trust. Secondly, we were on a break! It was your idea to take a break from this relationship until all of this shit was over, and the only reason I accepted was because I couldn't handle being in a relationship at the time that the trial was starting and we had the musical too! Yes, I kissed him. Yes, he's my teacher. And yes, I love him! But no, I will never be with him unless I want to be and right now, I don't want to be! And quite frankly, I'm not sure if I want to be with you either." I adjusted myself in my seat, crossing my arms as I looked towards the road. "Tonight before we leave Prom, you think about what I just said and what you just asked me and I'll think about it as well. When we leave, you tell me what you want and I'll tell you my decision. Got it?"

He looked at me. I could feel his eyes piercing through me. I had never talked him like that before, and I believe that it caught him off guard. He didn't say anything more, putting the car back into drive, resuming our journey to the hall for Prom.

When we got to the hall, it was beautifully decorated in rich, vibrant colors of reds, blues, violets, and black. Drake and I walked in arm in arm to our table, pulling out my chair for me and helping me to sit down. Our table was full of the main cast members from  _Beauty and the Beast_. Jay, Chrissy, and two others as well as their dates were all seated with us. Dinner was provided and as I ate, I looked around at the other juniors and seniors that were there, and then I took notice of the chaperones. They had dressed accordingly to the theme as well, which was very unusual. I turned back to my Caesar salad, eating slowly as I glanced around. I nearly choked on a crouton as I watched the door open and one of the chaperones come through the door.

There he was, just as he was in the dream, dressed as Red Death. Every detail of his costume was exact, from the mask and the make-up around his eyes, to the vibrant red suit and black boots. He even had a rapier attached to his belt, which was sheathed, of course. Drake patted my back as I coughed into my napkin, his face showing concern, thinking that I was choking. I raised my hand up, letting him know that I was okay as I took a drink of water, panting softly. I continued to eat, slowly and carefully, avoiding eye contact with him and Erik throughout the rest of the meal. After a while, I decided to make a venture to the bathroom, standing up from the table and holding my skirt as I walked to the bathroom. I kept looking straight ahead, making my way between tables and finally to the main doors, going out into the foyer. What I didn't realize was that he had followed me. He grabbed my arm just as I got to the bathroom, pulling me into a vacant office, shutting and locking the door.

"We're going to talk this out, and we're doing this now," he said with a hard voice, grabbing me by the arms and sitting me on the desk. I looked up at him, my hands folded in my lap, knowing that there was no way I could get away from him, not in his huge dress. "Why are you avoiding me?"

"I've been avoiding you because you're a murderer, Erik. How can I be around someone that murdered another person?"

"James Buquet was not a person. He was a piece of shit that was going to get away with raping you."

I looked up at him, blinking. "What did you just say?"

He sighed softly. "I know that ADA Nolan told you that he was going to be found guilty for what he had done to you, but he didn't want to tell you the truth, Sophia. I guess he wanted to put your mind at ease so you would finally get some counseling about what happened. I went to the courthouse the day before the performance to talk to ADA Nolan about something. I got lost and somehow found myself outside the room that the jury was in. They were arguing; I listened to their voting for a while, and discovered that ten out of the twelve jurors were voting not guilty. They couldn't get pass the kiss between us." He slowly placed his hands in his pockets, looking at me with gentle and apologetic eyes. "I couldn't let him get away with that. So I took him and convinced him that he wanted to die because no one could ever bear to love him and he had already been planning on it. I made him tie the noose around his neck, but when he didn't have the courage to actually do it, I pushed him off of the catwalk. If anything, Sophia, I only did it to protect you because I knew if he had the chance, he would come after you again and there wouldn't be anything that I could do to stop it. He would have done away with me. So, I'm sorry for hurting you so badly." He turned back to the door, unlocking it and opening it, turning to look at me one last time. "I hope that in time, you will forgive me." With that, he left me there, going back out into the dance. I left the office sometime after him, using the restroom and going back to my table. I could feel the tears in the back of my eyes, but I fought them back. I felt a warm hand on my back, turning to look at Drake.

"Are you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost," he said, rubbing my back softly.

"You have no idea."

It was 11:00pm. The dance was waning and most of the students had left to go to one of our classmate's after party a couple hours before. My table was all still there; we were having a good time just dancing by ourselves. I stopped after a while, going out to the balcony to get some air. My mind was still on the conversation that I had with Erik, and what Drake had asked me earlier. I sighed heavily as I felt the warm night breeze against my skin, stiffening up as I felt someone behind me. I slowly turned my head, seeing Drake with his hands in his pockets, watching me. I turned the rest of my body, resting against the balcony railing as he stepped closer to me, eventually standing beside me, looking out at the town.

"I've been thinking about what happened in the car earlier," he finally said after a few minutes of silence, not looking at me while he spoke. "You were honest with me. You came clean about what you and Monsieur Destler did, and I feel that I should probably come clean too."

"Okay," I said reluctantly, unsure of what he was about to say.

"When you told me about the dreams that you were having about Christine Daae, I didn't want to believe you. I thought that you were just telling me a story and that the tour of the Paris Opera House had got into your subconscious. A couple of weeks after we got back from Paris, I started having dreams too, and I think you know who I was."

I slowly turned my head to look at him, studying his face to make sure that he wasn't lying to me. And he wasn't. He was being completely and honestly serious. "Well, now you know how she struggled back then, just as I was struggling."

"I felt empathy for him and for you two as well, but with all of that drama that was going on a few weeks ago, I just couldn't handle it." He turned me to me, taking my hand just as he did in the car. "Sophia, I forgive you for everything, no matter what your decision is. I love you, and I always will. Will you take me back?"

I thought for a few more minutes, gently stroking the top of it with my thumb. I glanced over, seeing Erik peering through the window, watching us. I swallowed a small lump in my throat, and then looked up at Drake, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. "Drake, I love you. You're my best friend, but…I can't be with you romantically. I feel that at this time, I need to concentrate on the help that I'm getting from group, and they recommend not being in a relationship is best for me until I feel that I'm ready to be in one. I'm sorry."

He looked at the window, then back at him. "Are you lying to me just to be with him," he asked in a whisper, his eyes searching for the truth in my face.

My gaze traveled to the window before I answered. "No, because I'm going to tell him the same thing as soon as you give us some privacy. He's waiting for you to leave."

He squeezed my hand again before he pulled his away, backing away and taking off his mask. "I'm going to get our things and get ready to go. I'll meet you down at the car."

I nodded, watching him go. I turned my back towards the doors again, taking my mask off as I heard them close. I didn't look at him at first, and then I turned slowly, looking up at him. I slipped off my shoes, my bare feet standing on the cold floor of the balcony, revealing my actual height against the over six foot tall Erik Deslter.

"Are you choosing me then," he asked quietly, not moving as he looked down at me.

I shook my head. "I don't want to be in a relationship right now, Erik. That's what I just told Drake, and he understands. I just hope that you can understand it too."

He nodded, slipping his hands into his pockets. "You know, Sophia, I still believe what I said about our dreams. No matter what happens, or where we go, we will always find each other."

I nodded, picking up my shoes and holding them in my hand. "It's late. We should be heading home."

He nodded, walking me back inside. "You should rest up. Graduation is next week, and I'm sure that you're really excited for that."

"Yeah, and in three months, I'm leaving for New York. I'm leaving this place behind, and I can't wait."

He chuckled softly after he got his coat, walking me outside to Drake's car. "You'll do well. I believe in you."

Drake got out of the driver's side to help me into the passenger side. Chrissy was standing outside, waiting for us for a ride home; her date suddenly ditched her to go to the after party. We all looked up as Drake opened the car door to let me in, knowing that Erik had something else to say.

"You guys go straight home. That party is not where you should be tonight."

We all nodded and I got into the car, looking up at him as Drake got in and started the car. We slowly drove away, my gaze fixed on Erik the further away we got from the hall. I sat in the car quietly, thinking about everything that had passed within the last few months, and how it was all going to be forgotten after next Saturday night. I looked down at my mask, letting out a quiet sigh as I heard a soft song in my head.

_Masquerade_

_Paper faces on parade_

_Masquerade_

_Hide your face so the word will never find you…_

Then, something clicked in my head. Something that we could give Erik from all of us at Graduation and it was something that he would love and appreciate for the rest of his life, no matter what we did. I turned to Chrissy and Drake, my face excited and ready to share my idea.

"Guys, let's go to my house. I have the perfect parting gift for Monsieur Destler."

With Chrissy's help, since she was our class president and with the help of Drake getting copies of the score to the orchestra, the seniors' gift to Monsieur Destler was nearly ready. I was giving him my copies of  _Think of Me_  from  _Hannibal_  that I had gotten from the Paris Opera House. The only thing that we needed was to surprise him with the score and for him to play for me while I sang. That was something that we had to go to the superintendent for. We arranged it where he would have a little something to say, I would remove my cap and gown and join him on the stage, present the music to him and ask him to play for me. It was a near perfect plan; the only glitch was how we were going to keep Erik from finding out what was going on before the ceremony.

The Graduation ceremony began and everything was going smoothly. We all received our diplomas after the orchestra played. As we all sat down, the superintendent came up and introduced Erik to the crowd and announced that he was leaving the school. She asked him to say a few words. He nodded, stepping in front of the microphone, clearing his throat.

"Well, first off, I would like to thank the superintendent and the school board for giving me the opportunity to work here at this wonderful high school. There are many talented students here…"

As he continued with his speech, I quickly removed my cap and gown and grabbed the score with the piano music on top, having tied it all together with a beautiful red ribbon. I made my way to the stage slowly, holding the music behind my back as I came up on stage, just as he finished his speech.

"…I thank all of you for being so supportive, and I shall never forget you." He turned and looked at me, chuckling. "And here is one of our talented students now, ladies and gentlemen. Miss Sophia Day."

I curtseyed to the audience as they applauded me. I turned my attention back to Erik, smiling sweetly. "Miss Day, what are you doing up here," he asked me with a smile, his hands folded behind him.

I cleared my throat, stepping closer to the microphone. "Monsieur Destler, on behalf of the senior class, I present you with this gift just as a small goodbye for us." I moved the music to show him, holding in both of my hands. "This is a copy of the score from the opera  _Hannibal_  that was stored at the Paris Opera House, with full orchestration for the aria  _Think of Me_. I was hoping that you would accept this gift and play it for us?"

He smiled, taking the music and untying the ribbon slowly, looking at it. He looked back up at me, speaking into the microphone once more. "I will play only if you sing with me."

I smiled broadly. "I would be honored."

He smiled. "Ladies and gentlemen, Miss Sophia Day," he said, moving back over to the piano, getting the music where it should be. I took my place in front of the microphone, listening intently as he began to play. I breathed deeply, and began to sing.

_Think of me_  
think of me, fondly  
when we've said goodbye.  
Remember me once in a while-  
please promise me you'll try.

_When you find that_  
once again  
you long  
to take your heart back  
and be free-  
if you ever find a moment  
spare a thought for me...

Right on cue, the orchestra came in, playing the interlude with Erik. He looked back at them, then at me with a smile, shaking his head. He knew I had planned this. I smiled back at him, and then turned my attention back to the audience. For the first time since that first night in his basement, us composing music together, I felt whole once more. I felt Christine, Raoul, and the Phantom were with us, inside of us and within the words of this song. I let the music fill my soul, and I continued to sing.

_We never said our love_  
was evergreen  
or as unchanging as the sea-  
but if you can still remember  
stop and think of me ...

_Think of all the things_  
we've shared and seen-  
don't think about the things  
which might have been...

_Think of me_  
think of me waking  
silent and resigned.

_Imagine me_  
trying too hard to put you  
from my mind.

_Recall those days_  
look back on  
all those times  
think of the things  
we'll never do-  
there will never be  
a day, when  
I won't think of you...

The audience applauded for me during the second interlude as I tilted my head in thanks. Then, suddenly, he came in with words of his own while he continued to play.

**Long ago**

**It seems so long ago**

**How young and innocent you were**

**You may not remember me**

**But I'll remember you…**

_Flowers fade_

_The fruits of summer fade_

_They have their seasons_

_So do we_

_But please promise me that sometimes_

_You will think…_

_Ah-ah-ah-ah-aaaah-of me!_

The music ended with a thundering note and the audience erupted with applause and a standing ovation. I closed my eyes, curtseying on stage, my only thoughts now of music and of my future as I acknowledged my audience. Erik came over from the piano, taking my hand and kissing it ever so softly just as he had always done after I performed, mouthing 'thank you' to me as he turned me to face my audience once more.


	27. Epilogue

_Three months later…_

The warm morning air of August greeted me as I stepped out of my house for the last time for the next years of my life. I had my purse in hand with everything that I would need, and my car was all packed, ready to make the drive to New York and begin the next chapter of my life.

Julliard.

It all seemed too surreal back in May when I stood upon the stage of the high school's auditorium, acknowledging my audience with my teacher beside me, a smile on his beautiful face as he watched me. Now that August had arrived, it had sunk in, especially at the goodbye party that my parents had held for me the night before. Everyone came to wish me well, even Drake, who left the same night of my party. Everyone came…except him. He was the one person that I had wish to have seen last night before my parents had went to bed, and all of my classmates left, and he didn't come. I hadn't seen him since the night of Graduation, and I missed him. I wished that I could have talked to him at least once more before this morning came. But I guess it wasn't meant to be. I opened the car door, tossing my purse inside and shutting the door again, looking up at the house one last time, reflecting on the memories that I had there, thinking of my sleeping parents who wanted to tell me goodbye one last time this morning. I didn't want that. As far as I was concerned, they had said their goodbyes long before Graduation and my party last night and they would be happier if I had just left without them knowing. I looked down at my wristwatch, seeing the time was 6:55am. Five more minutes before I had to leave. I looked down at my shoes, thinking if there was anything that I was forgetting. All of my clothes were in the car, as well as my radio, iPod, CDs, and any sheet music that I had in my room. I slowly raised my head, closing my eyes, breathing deeply. There was a breeze that quietly came through the air. As I breathed for the second time, my nose caught a scent of familiar cologne. I held my breath, bringing my head back to level, slowly opening my eyes and turning my head towards the back of my car.

There he was. He seemed different. He seemed more relaxed, like he had been somewhere and done some soul searching. He still dressed nicely, just as any teacher would, his hair slicked back and his skin showing just a slight hint of a possible tan. I moved my arms to my sides as he smiled at me, resisting the urge to run into his arms and hug him tightly before I left. I looked down and swallowed, seeing that I was wearing the same sundress that I had worn the last time we were together in his basement and all of our secrets were revealed. I looked back up at him and he was still smiling, but he didn't move close to me. Not yet. He wanted to take me in once more; how I looked, what I smelled like, and if I was happy. I finally smiled at him, walking slowly towards him as I placed my hand on the car, stopping just a few feet away from him.

"You look good," I said softly, tucking some hair behind my ear. He chuckled, watching me, slipping his hands into his pockets.

"Always the icebreaker," he replied, moving closer to me, slowly as if he were afraid to startle me. "I've been away."

"I've noticed. Where have you been?"

"Just a little bit of traveling, mainly in Europe and some tropical places for June and July. I just got back last night and I found out from Chrissy that you were leaving this morning."

"I was disappointed that I didn't see you last night. I…I'm sorry that I haven't called."

"Why should you be sorry? You told me that you didn't want to be in a relationship, and as I recall, you told Drake the same thing."

"I know. We can still talk, you know. You were my mentor, my teacher, and…my friend." I swallowed. I hated that word. We were more than friends, and I knew that, but I couldn't bring myself to say that we were more than that. He nodded, taking one last step towards me, placing his hand over mine.

"We'll talk. You'll have to let me know how you're doing in school, and if there's anything that I can help you with."

I nodded, slowly turning my hand up, our palms touching. I watched him as he closed his eyes, slowly closing his fingers of my hand, remember how soft my skin was against his. "Do you really think that we'll always find each other," I asked, looking at our hands, lifting them off of the car, holding his hand to mine.

"Yes. I believe that with all of my heart, Sophie. No matter what happens to us, no matter where we go, we will always find each other."

I smiled softly, looking up at him. He slowly opened his eyes, his beautiful blue eyes glistening down into mine. I let out a low sigh, now dreading this moment that we were sharing together. I knew that it was time for me to go, but I couldn't bring myself to say goodbye. I didn't want to say goodbye. Not yet.

Suddenly, he wrapped his arms around me, embracing me against him. I wrapped around him in return, hugging him tightly as I buried my head into his chest. I swallowed the lump in my throat that had suddenly formed, feeling tears forming in the back of my eyes as I squeezed them shut, fighting them back. I could tell by the tight hold he had on me that he didn't want to let me go. He wasn't ready to let me go, just as I wasn't ready to let go of him. We stayed close to one another for a few more moments, then he slowly pulled away, looking down at me again as he took my hand.

"You have come such a long way, Sophia," he said, reaching into his pocket with his other hand. "You have grown so much since we first met, and I hope that you continue to grow in your schooling at Julliard. I'm expecting to hear great things about you, and I know that you won't disappoint me."

I smiled softly, rubbing my eyes with my free hand before I looked at him. "I swear that I will never, ever disappoint you. I promise you," I said softly, placing my hand on his chest, directly over his heart, "that I will only sing for you, and always for you."

He smiled, lifting the hand that he was holding and kissing it softly. "I have a little parting gift for you. It's not much, but I thought that you might like to have it." He pulled the hand he had in his pocket out, slowly opening it.

I gasped quietly, putting both of my hands over my mouth as I gazed what was in his hand. It was a ring, but wasn't any ordinary ring. It was Christine Daae's ring. It looked the same as it did in my last dream when she gave it to the Phantom before she left the lair with Raoul. The gold band still shined, and the diamonds sparkled lightly in the morning sunlight. I felt faint as I stared at the ring, my gaze finally traveling up at him. He only smiled, slowly taking my left hand and placing it on my ring finger. It was a perfect fit. "I'm assuming that we're not engaged, right," I said, dumbfounded as I gazed at the ring.

He laughed softly. "No, we're not engaged. This has been a family heirloom for years, but I didn't realize why we had it until I began to have the dreams. I thought that it would only be right for you to have it since you're in her family."

"I love it, Erik. Thank you. Thank you so much." I wrapped my arms around him once more. He embraced me, rubbing my back softly.

"You better go. You have a long drive, and you're losing time."

"I know," I said, pulling away from him, moving towards the driver's door, my eyes still on him. I smiled at him.

**Sophie…I love you…**

"I love you too, Erik."

He smiled at me one last time before turning and walking away. I waited until he turned the corner on the sidewalk, then I got into my car, looking at the ring. I cried softly for a few moments before I started my car, wiping my eyes so I could see. I put the car in gear, and began to drive. I would always remember the present, as well as the past, and the times that we had shared.

And yet, somehow I knew that this wasn't the end of something that was unfinished.

This was only the beginning of something new.


End file.
